Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
by baasheep
Summary: Voldemort is back and has a plan. Will Harry survive? Dreams, predictions, betrayals and a disappearance. Sirius, Lupin, Firenze, and Ford Anglia return. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!
1. The Owl Express

A/N I guess I should disclaim it now. I don't own any of the characters at all. Harry Potter and all related items are copyrighted to J.K Rowling, Bloomsbury and Warner Brothers. If I owned it do you really think I waste my time putting up this notice? So don't sue me! This is my first ficcie so please be nice. And don't forget to review. With no further ado, read and enjoy!  
  
The Owl Express  
  
Harry Potter woke with a start and leant on his elbow to peer out of the open window. The night was black and cool and the wind played gently on his face. He frowned. He had been sure that he had heard something….  
  
Harry sighed. He was getting too paranoid. Ever since the events at the end of last year he had been plagued each night with nightmares mostly containing a certain snake-like man with red eyes…  
  
But still…he was sure he had heard something. He gently levered himself off his elbow and sat up in bed. He can't touch me, not here. I'm safe here. But there was still an element of doubt. What if Dumbledore was wrong, what if Voldemort found a way to reach him at Privet Drive. Not for the first time Harry wondered why it was so important that he should stay with his aunt and uncle, why he was so protected there.  
  
A dim shadow flitted silently across the street lamp outside his window. Harry tensed nervously, then relaxed as he saw the familiar sight of his snowy owl. He leapt out of bed and padded quietly across to the window to open it wider for Hedwig.  
  
Hedwig swept gracefully into the room, dropped an angular package on his head, circled the room once and then settled on her perch by the door. Harry dumped the package on the bed and went over to her. Hedwig had been gone for over a week; he had supposed that she had been staying at the Burrow. But if she hadn't been there, then where had she been? The answer to that lay innocently on the edge of his bed.  
  
Harry checked that Hedwig was content and then picked up the package. He sat down on his bed and inspected it carefully. The writing on the front was untidy but Harry could tell it wasn't from Ron, and the absence of a Hogwarts seal on the back, meant that it could be from only one person…  
  
Heart thumping and fingers trembling slightly, Harry untied the thin piece of string and let the contents fall onto the bed. There was another wrapped parcel and a small note. He picked the note up and read it.  
  
Harry,  
  
Happy Birthday! I hope this finds you; Hedwig seemed a little frisky when she arrived. Maybe she isn't getting enough exercise. Anyway I'm on Dumbledore's business and have to stay in hiding. Technically I shouldn't be writing to you at all but I'm sure it won't matter. Hope you're holding out well; if the muggles get too annoying just threaten them with a quick night-time visit from your favourite godfather…* Harry could almost see his godfather's evil grin.* If you need anything, don't hesitate to send me a letter. Hedwig knows how to find me. Hope you like your present and I'll see you as soon as possible.  
  
Sirius  
  
Harry smiled and shook his head. He picked up the parcel and un-wrapped it. Out fell a small bottle. A tiny note fluttered to the floor. Harry bent down and picked it up.  
  
This is a phial of broomstick potion. According to the label in the shop, it helps keep the twigs streamlined and the handle polished. I think it might also stop the broom from listing but I'm not sure. Sorry it's not much but it was the best I could find (I am in hiding after all)  
  
Sirius  
  
Harry grinned and put the bottle carefully on his bedside table. His mind wandered. Quidditch, the best game in the world. Fourteen players on broomsticks, four flying balls and an awful lot of confusion.  
  
Before he had got far, though, he was interrupted by the arrival of another owl. Harry recognised Pig at once. The tiny Little Owl was battling valiantly against the windy weather outside but was failing miserably. As soon as he managed to face the window, the owl darted towards it, but each time he was swept away by the gusting winds. Harry tried to hide his amusement and reached out of the window, grasping Pig around the middle. Harry pulled the bedraggled owl inside and shut the window firmly.  
  
He relieved the owl of his tiny parcel and carried him over to Hedwig's cage. After he had dried Pig, the owl perked up at once and proceeded to fly around the room hooting incessantly. Hedwig opened an eye and swivelled her head to fix him with a condescending look. When Pig took no notice she ruffled her feathers and turned her back on him with as much dignity as she could muster.  
  
Harry cursed quietly and chased the owl all over the room, hoping feverishly that the Dursleys wouldn't hear anything. He finally caught up with the owl and snatched him out of the air. He ran to the cage and stuffed an entire packet of owl treats down the tiny throat. Pig suddenly lost interest in flying and focused his attention instead on the new obstruction in his mouth. Hedwig gave him a suffering look that said all too clearly "they were mine". Harry smiled. "I'll get you some more soon. Promise."  
  
Harry paused and listened silently for any sign that the Dursleys might have heard. When, after a few moments, he realised that Uncle Vernon wasn't going to come bursting through the door demanding to know what the racket was, he heaved a sigh of relief. Checking that Pig was still well occupied with the treats, he sat down on his bed and looked at the second parcel of the night.  
  
He could tell at a glance that it was from Ron. His best friend seemed to have screwed the paper up as much as possible to make it fit inside the strange circular package. Harry carefully extracted the letter, smoothed it out and read:  
  
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!  
  
Hope you like the present; I'd sure like one. Dad's got permission from Dumbledore to let you stay here for the rest of the holidays! We'll come and get you at noon on Friday. So see you in a few days!  
  
Ron  
  
P.S We'll be coming by floo powder again. Is that all right with the muggles eklitricity fire?  
  
Harry put the letter down and thought. The Dursleys had never replaced their electric fireplace since the incident last year involving a minor explosion, four wizards and tonnes of soot. Instead they had installed a fireplace with a real fire (after deciding that it was much more tasteful). They had called in a building firm (private of course) who could be trusted not to comment on the sooty footprints, the fireplace lodged in the opposite wall and the neat white outlines of four figures on a slightly blackened wall. Most importantly they could be trusted not to tell the neighbours.  
  
He turned his attention to the present. Harry could hardly believe it. Ron had gotten him a Chudley Cannons watch! Quidditch…  
  
Once again his thoughts were interrupted. A sharp impatient tapping on the window announced the arrival of yet another owl. Harry made another trip across the room to let not one but two owls in. The larger of the two swooped inside and dropped its letter on the desk. It ruffled its feathers importantly before taking off into the night once more. The second owl also deposited its letter, then flew across the room to Hedwigs cage which was starting to look very crowded. Harry shook his head in disbelief. "It's like an owl express in here tonight!" he whispered to no one in particular.  
  
Harry opened the first letter. After a quick scan he put it back down. It was the annual letter from Hogwarts. The second was from Hermione.  
  
Harry,  
  
I do hope you're well. I'm in Bulgaria with Viktor, it's so interesting here. You wouldn't believe the amount of wizarding history this place has got! Anyway I got you a book I thought you might like. See you at Hogwarts.  
  
Hermione.  
  
Harry reflected that they were both trying hard to sound optimistic and avoiding the subject of Voldemort…He pushed that thought away and turned, with some trepidation, to the book. It would be just like Hermione to get him a large book on arithmancy or the finer details of transfiguration.  
  
But he was pleasantly surprised. The handsome book that fell onto his quilt was named Quidditch: Everything you ever wanted to know. Harry smiled. Three quidditch-related presents: it had to be some sort of a record.  
  
Harry turned to the window and gazed outside. The wind seemed to have calmed down now, enough so that the owl from Bulgaria and Pig ventured outside and soon disappeared from sight. Harry shut the window behind them. He had certainly had a lot of owls tonight. Harry returned to bed and fell asleep thinking that, with the prospect of staying with Ron looming on the horizon, life had suddenly taken a turn for the better.  
  
Friday, in Harry's opinion, could not come around quickly enough. But noon on Friday finally dragged around. The Dursleys were only too happy to let him stay the final three weeks or so of the holiday with his friend. They had hidden in the kitchen, trying not to remember the results the Weasleys' arrival had caused this time last year. They were going to Majorca right after Harry left and had given strict instructions that their packing was not to be disturbed. Harry privately thought that there was another reason that they preferred not to meet Mr Weasley…  
  
The clock on the mantle-piece struck twelve and only minutes later a spinning figure appeared in the flames of the fire. Moments later Mr Weasley stepped neatly out of the fireplace beaming at Harry.  
  
"Ah Harry. Ready then?" Harry nodded. "Good, good."  
  
Ron's entrance was not quite as elegant as Mr Weasley's. He tripped on the fireguard and went sprawling onto the floor, trailing soot behind him. Aunt Petunia, who had obviously been spying from the kitchen, shrieked and darted into the room giving Mr Weasley an evil glare. Ron got up and brushed himself down grinning sheepishly. Mr Weasley glanced guiltily at the soot.  
  
"Ah, let me clean that up for you." He raised his wand but stopped when Uncle Vernon gave a strangled groan.  
  
"Get out," he growled, his face starting to turn red. "Take him and get out!" Harry stood fascinated by the varying degrees of crimson and purple flying across his uncle's face.  
  
Mr Weasley cast a last guilty look at the footprints then turned to Harry. "You'd better go. I'll take your trunk. Ron you follow him." Harry could see the stress lines etched on his face, obviously Voldemort's return was putting a lot of stress on is work.  
  
Harry took a pinch of floo powder from the proffered bowl and stepped into the fire which had now begun to burn a bright blue. He took a deep breath and said as clearly as he could: "The Burrow". Harry could feel himself spinning around until he became giddy. Suddenly his feet, slammed into the ground and he stumbled forwards coughing.  
  
Harry looked up and found himself in the bright cheerful kitchen of the Weasley family. Mrs Weasley, Fred, George and Ginny were all sitting around the table talking animatedly. When Harry arrived, Mrs Weasley looked up and beamed. She rushed over and enveloped him in a warm hug.  
  
"Welcome Harry dear." Harry suddenly felt that life was very much worth living.  
  
  
  
A/N So there you have it, the first chapter. I realise that not much has happened yet, I promise, there's much more coming later including the return of Lupin, Firenze and…YES the Ford Anglia not to mention all this stuff to do with the Order of the Phoenix and a mysterious disappearance! So for now bear with me while I sort myself out. The next chapter should be up this weekend. In that one Harry goes to the Burrow, Diagon Alley and finally returns to Hogwarts. So before you disappear off into the ether, completely forgetting me, review please, please! Maybe if I get plenty of reviews I'll hurry. Well I'm waffling now so I'll leave you.  
  
Luv baasheep  
  
xx 


	2. Dreams

A/N Well here's the next chapter like I promised. Hopefully if you read this you'll get more into it. So, on with the show.  
  
Dreams  
  
Life at the Burrow was much more enjoyable than life at Privet Drive; there was no unnecessary work and most importantly, no Dursleys. Harry had had a pleasant two weeks at the Burrow but he was looking forward to the beginning of term.  
  
On the last night of the holidays, the Weasley's and Harry sat in the living room and ate their dinner. The clock on the mantle piece asserted that it was almost time for "washing up". Harry leant back from the table and sighed contentedly; life was certainly better, especially the food…  
  
He was gazing dreamily out of the window when there was a sudden burst of pain in his scar. The pain lasted for only a second, but was so intense that it was enough to make him wince heavily and leave him breathless. Harry glanced around; luckily no one had seen. He surreptitiously rubbed his scar. What did it mean? Was Voldemort nearby or was he only feeling particularly murderous? He didn't know, and right now he didn't really want to.  
  
The chatter at the table continued without noticing Harry's sudden pain. With a start, he realised that they were talking about Voldemort. Mr Weasley had paused with half a forkful of food on the way to his mouth to join in the conversation.  
  
"But he hasn't been heard of, not since the end of last year anyway. Nothing's happened, no attacks, no threats. No wonder Fudge isn't taking Dumbledore seriously."  
  
Percy looked up from his plate, an insufferable expression on his face. "Mr Fudge is perfectly right! There's no need to scare the wizarding community witless with such complete rubbish."  
  
Mrs Weasley joined in, an angry twinkle in her eye. "Oh, so you-know-who hasn't risen? Tell me then. Exactly what did Harry see last year?" The table fell deadly silent. Harry tried to sink into the seat. He had been wondering when his name would be mentioned. He wished that he hadn't been dragged into this. The entire table was silent for Percy's answer. Percy sat in the spotlight ears gradually growing redder at the tips. Percy cast Harry a quick glance; Harry was sure he knew what the answer was going to be.  
  
"Well…um…it's obvious something happened to Harry but…er…well, he'd obviously been tortured or something so he could have…um…been hallucinating. And then there's the matter of the funny turns…" Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing. He was furious: how could Percy believe what that Rita Skeeter woman said?  
  
Mrs Weasley announced in a firm icy tone. "I think it may be time to go to bed in a few minutes." Percy suddenly looked very ashamed and he nodded mutely. The meal continued in silence; everyone's thoughts were now turned to Voldemort and they were all, with the exception of Percy, wondering what his next move was going to be.  
  
The pain returned but Harry tried his best to ignore it. He had a feeling that he would have to get used to it. He must have been looking pale because Mrs Weasley gave him a quick glance and then announced that it was time to go to bed. The Weasley children traipsed upstairs dejectedly. Harry was only too glad to obey.  
  
After undressing and brushing his teeth, he climbed into the camp bed that was set up in Ron's room. The last thought he had before drifting off was somewhere along the lines of: Thank God that no one saw it. I wouldn't want to worry anyone…  
  
He didn't know that Ginny had seen his pain clearly enough to know exactly what it meant…  
  
* * *  
  
Harry heard once more those words which plagued him constantly.  
  
"Kill the Spare. Avada Kedavra"  
  
He heard once again the small thud as Cedric's body fell to the ground. He felt the pain of his scar, as if it was splitting his head in two.  
  
He saw Voldemort's resurrection, the bubbling hot cauldron, the knife, the snake-like body. Once more, the Death Eaters appeared, and once more he was fighting for his life.  
  
Suddenly the scene faded and he saw Cedric's cold body lying spread-eagled on the ground. Then he heard another voice…  
  
"How many more, Harry Potter?" drawled the voice. "How many more must die for you before you die yourself? Cedric Diggory was only the first, there will be more Harry Potter, there will be more. Come to me and I will end it for you now. I may even make it quick and painless. We will meet again, Harry Potter. It is only a matter of when and where, but we will meet and then I shall kill you. You shall not escape me Harry Potter, I will kill you…"  
  
* * *  
  
Harry sat bolt upright in bed the words ringing in his ears. He knew better than to dismiss it as only a dream. The pain in his scar told him that it had really happened. Voldemort had really spoken to him, threatened him. He shuddered and lay back.  
  
He knew he wouldn't get any more sleep that night but he persisted in closing his eyes and trying to breathe more normally. The image of a pair of slitted red eyes burnt into his mind…  
  
When Mrs Weasley came later that day to wake them up, Harry found to his surprise that he had fallen asleep again. If he had had any more dreams he couldn't remember them for which he was infinitely grateful. Harry didn't know why, but he didn't want to tell Ron about the dream yet.  
  
The dream, however, was completely forgotten in the general havoc of finding last minute items and losing everything imaginable. Even Mr Weasley added to the chaos by announcing in a fine temper that he had lost the car keys and anyone who wanted to get to King's Cross had better be able to fly. Mrs Weasley soothed her husband magnificently, presented him with the keys and led them all out to the car.  
  
Just before Harry got into the car, Mrs Weasley called him over. Harry went over curiously and was surprised when he saw tears forming in her eyes. She pulled him aside and spoke to him in a furious whisper.  
  
"Harry, I realise that this is going to be a difficult year for you but I want you to know that Arthur and I are completely behind you. We care for you just like we would another son." She sighed and shook her head sadly. "Please be careful Harry. I realise you don't ask for trouble but it does seem to have an uncanny way of finding you. Dumbledore's there for you, he cares about you just like we do. Promise me Harry; promise me you won't go looking for him."  
  
Harry was bewildered. "Go looking for who?" he asked, and then his eyes widened as he realised who she meant. He frowned. How stupid would he have to be to actually go looking for Voldemort? "Why would I go looking for him?"  
  
"Please Harry just promise me."  
  
Harry nodded silently, still wondering why he would want to go looking for Voldemort. Mrs Weasley smiled and hugged him.  
  
"Thank you Harry." She sent him back to the car and waved as they all drove off.  
  
King's Cross was unusually crowded and they had to take the barrier one at a time. Once the luggage had been loaded onto the Hogwarts Express, Mr Weasley, looking remarkably like his wife, ushered Harry aside. He spoke in a low concerned voice.  
  
"Harry, I want you to promise me something…"  
  
Harry sighed and only just managed to keep himself from rolling his eyes. "That I won't go looking for Voldemort?"  
  
Mr Weasley looked stunned and seemed to ignore the fact that Harry had said the name. Harry smiled. "Mrs Weasley asked me the same thing," he told him.  
  
Mr Weasley's face cleared. "Ah, well in that case…have a good year Harry."  
  
Harry thanked him and made for the train which was leaving in just a few short minutes. Once on the train he found the compartment that Ron was in and sat down. A moment later, the door opened and Hermione walked in followed closely by Neville.  
  
"Harry, Ron! How are you? Did you have a good holiday?" Hermione looked tanned, almost as if she hadn't stayed inside all holiday.  
  
The next hour was happy enough, recounting the events of the holiday and what people had done. Harry wasn't really paying attention; his mind was once more on the dream, but he was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard his name mentioned.  
  
"What do you think Harry?" asked Neville.  
  
"Hmm, sorry. Think about what?" he asked. He barely noticed the sudden uneasy air of the carriage and the reddening of Neville's face which invariably meant that he knew he had made a mistake. "About what?" he asked again.  
  
"You-know-who. What do you think he's going to do now that he's…he's back." The last was said in an almost whimper.  
  
Harry frowned. How should he know what Voldemort was going to do? But…Voldemort had said something about…  
  
"I'm not sure, but he said something about releasing the prisoners in Azkaban." The terrified expression on Neville's face convinced him that he shouldn't impart the rest of the knowledge. Besides he had a feeling that Hagrid was dealing with the giants.  
  
The subject of Voldemort was hastily forgotten. Neville brought out a pack of cards and they played exploding snap for a while. Neville was surprisingly good at the game and won five times in a row before they decided to give up.  
  
Just then the compartment door slid open and Malfoy, accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle, waltzed in. He sneered at the four of them.  
  
"Well, if it isn't Dumbledore's favourite Potty along with the Weasel and the Fanged Mudblood. Oh and the Toadless Wimp as well. Starting up a fan club are we? How nice for you." Crabbe and Goyle sniggered stupidly and watched to see what would happen next.  
  
Hermione turned red and buried her face in her hands; evidently the memory of last year's do-it-yourself dentistry hadn't quite left. Harry had to restrain Rom from trying to beat Malfoy into a pulp. Much to everyone's surprise, it was Neville who spoke up, if a little hesitantly.  
  
"B-Beat it Malfoy. We d-don't want you here. Go and eat dung." Harry gave Neville an appraising glance before returning his attention to the furious Ron. Malfoy simply sneered.  
  
"Watch it Longbottom! You'll be next. Diggory was only the first, there will be more Harry Potter, there will be more." Before anyone could react, Malfoy glided out of the room. Harry could only gape.  
  
Ron recovered pretty quickly and spoke angrily. "Well of all the nerve…" he turned and peered at Harry. "Hey, Harry! Are you okay?"  
  
Harry nodded. He couldn't believe it! Malfoy had repeated Voldemort's words almost exactly. That couldn't be good. And yet again, for some reason, he didn't want to tell Ron or anyone else just yet.  
  
"He's right," moaned Neville.  
  
Ron turned open-mouthed to him. "You can't say that!" he spluttered indignantly. "Malfoy was grabbing in the dark when he said there would be more!" Harry privately hoped that Ron was right. Neville shook his head.  
  
"No, not that. What he said about me!"  
  
"Neville, you're not a wimp!"  
  
Neville beamed at them. "I didn't say that. I mean I'm toadless. I've lost Trevor again." Ron snorted and they all laughed.  
  
A few minutes later, the train rounded a bend and they saw the first glimpse of Hogwarts. Harry, as always, gasped when he saw that first sight, with the towers gleaming in the sun and the surface of the black lake sparkling.  
  
Five minutes later he was in the carriage on the way up to the school having changed into his robes on the train. On the steps leading into the Great Hall, Harry spied the other Gryffindor fifth years, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. They were all ushered inside by the strict Professor McGonagall ("Come on now, no dilly dallying in the entrance hall!")  
  
The Great Hall was bedecked in the house colours and the bewitched ceiling, as always, drew a few appreciative "oohs" from the first years. After the sorting ceremony, Professor Dumbledore stood up to address the students.  
  
"A new school year, and one that I hope will be free from the kind of sorrow that befell us last year. We must look to the future and deal with what comes, when it comes. So, I have a few messages to give out. Firstly, Professor Snape will not be teaching Potions this year." This announcement drew excited whispers from the Gryffindors', Ravenclaws' and Hufflepuffs', with the exception of the first years who had no idea who Professor Snape was. The Slytherins' wore their usual sullen faces with a hint of a scowl. Professor Dumbledore tried to hide the tiny smile creeping across his face. "He has not, however, left us and he may be coming back." Once more the whispers grew in volume. "Potions lessons will be taken over by Professor Ignia on my left here." A tall man with short black hair and a mean expression stood up and nodded briefly before taking his seat again. Harry had the distinct impression that Potions lessons wouldn't be any more fun than usual.  
  
Professor Dumbledore continued. "And as many of you will be aware, we need a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. That vacancy has been filled by Professor Arabella Figg who, unfortunately, cannot join us now." Harry ceased his scanning of the teacher's table at this point. He frowned when he caught sight of Hagrid. He had thought that Hagrid had a job to do most probably involving giants. *Oh well. Maybe he's finished, after all, eight weeks is a long time*  
  
"Lessons and of course, quidditch will continue as usual. That is all I think. Enjoy the feast!"  
  
Harry watched hungrily as the tables were covered in every kind of food imaginable. Ron at once helped himself to the roast lamb and mince sauce, eating like a pig. Harry noticed that, unusually, Fred and George were keeping to themselves. Harry wished he could ask them how Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was coming along but he hadn't had the chance yet; he hadn't thought it very prudent to mention the subject in the hearing range of Mrs Weasley who believed that they had abandoned all ideas of a joke shop.  
  
Ron turned to him, with a full mouth of food. "Well, what do you think of that? No Snape!" Food sprayed the table. "Mind, that Ignia fella doesn't look too happy either."  
  
Hermione gave Ron a disapproving look that encompassed the tiny gobbets of food on the table. "It'll be interesting to see the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher though. We haven't had a female teacher before."  
  
Ron snorted and opened his mouth to say something but closed it when he saw the look on Hermione's face. He chewed obediently and then swallowed hard. "That's hardly surprising. Most of them are aurors and women aren't exactly…um…aurors," he fished lamely. Ron could tell that he'd made a mistake… "Although I'm sure her lessons will be very i-interesting." Hermione shot him a death glare.  
  
After the feast, Harry Ron and Hermione made their way to Gryffindor tower and gave the password (Holly) to the portrait of the Fat Lady. Once inside they made their goodnights and parted their separate ways. Neville, Dean and Seamus were already in bed and the sound of soft snoring announced that at least one of them was fast asleep. As Harry drew the curtains around his four poster bed and lay back he reflected that maybe life wasn't going to be all that different. He let sleep claim him, hoping fervently that Voldemort wasn't waiting for him in his dreams.  
  
  
  
A/N Okies, there you have it. Hope you like it!  
  
Okay, so what's going on with the dreams and Malfoy repeating Voldemort? You'll find out soon enough.  
  
I know I promised a visit to Diagon Alley but it kinda got shoved to the back.  
  
Well, in the next there's going to be a load of lessons and a bit of quidditch training too. There's also a strange prediction from Prof. Trelawney coming up sometime!  
  
Sorry about the typos, and yes I know that slitted isn't a real word but I couldn't think of anything else.  
  
Looks at watch Well hmm, I've got time to write another and get it up by the evening. (life, what life?)  
  
Thanx for reading and please review!!!!!  
  
Luv baasheep  
  
Xx  
  
P.S My italics don't seem to be working so you'll have to guess where notes are and where any emphasis lands. And if you haven't already realised anything written in between asterisks is Harry's thoughts. 


	3. The Caladrius

A/N Wow, I'm getting through this fast. So enjoy! Thanks to Minna Radcliffe and Bob, my first two (and only so far) reviewers. Yay!  
  
  
  
Harry was woken early the next morning by an ecstatic Fred. "Harry, Harry, wake up!"  
  
"'Smatter?" he asked drowsily.  
  
"Quidditch practice! Come on."  
  
Harry glanced at the clock: it was six in the morning and…  
  
"Fred, it's a school day!"  
  
Fred shrugged. "Angelina says we've got to start early. Apparently the first match is earlier then usual."  
  
Harry was intrigued. "Is Angelina the captain?" Fred nodded. "And who's the keeper?"  
  
"Sixth year. Someone called Tony Hencher." Harry could see Fred's dislike of the name. "So come on. We need to be down there five minutes ago."  
  
Harry nodded and climbed out of bed. Although the morning was cold and condensation poured down the windows, the rooms were warm. He changed into his scarlet quidditch robes, found his Firebolt and raced down to the pitch where the rest of the team were waiting. Angelina looked up as he arrived.  
  
"All right Harry? I was just telling them that we're going to have to train very hard this year. Malfoy's father's splashed out again. They've all got Nimbus 2002, but I hear that Firebolts are still better. I guess we'll soon see. Okay everyone, into the air. I want the chasers to practice the Hawkshead Attacking Formation."  
  
Seven scarlet blurs rose high into the air followed quickly by four flying balls. Fred and George beat the bludgers for all they were worth, directly at the three Chasers. But Angelina, Alicia and Katie seemed to have been practicing; they dodged the cannon-like balls with practiced ease, swooping around the pitch in a triangle, passing the quaffle back and forth between them. They certainly gave Tony a run for his money, throwing the quaffle at one of the three hoops with the speed of lightning. Tony was excellent though, he darted around the goalposts and didn't let a single one through. He was better than Oliver Wood if that was possible. Harry had heard that Oliver had been offered a place on Puddlemere United.  
  
Harry circled high above them looking for any sign of the snitch. He felt slightly detached from the game; although the position of Seeker was the most important, it sometimes left you on your own. But this was certainly better than nothing…  
  
Suddenly, his heart rose as he spied a tiny glimmer of gold less than a foot above the ground. Harry pulled his broom around and dived. The wind whipped his robes backwards and he shot past the others so fast that Katie dropped the quaffle in surprise. They all stopped to watch.  
  
Harry plunged downwards, nearer and nearer to the snitch. He reached out, straining to catch it…and was rewarded by the feel of the tiny wings beating in vain against his fingers. He pulled out of the dive less than 15cm from the ground, his feet skimming the grass. Inside the school, the bell rang to announce breakfast.  
  
The rest of the team came down and alighted next to Harry. George grinned at him.  
  
"Wow Harry, I've never seen anything like that! We all thought you were going to crash!" Fred was nodding.  
  
Angelina smiled. "Good job Harry, that was the best Wronski Feint I've seen. If you can pull that off in a match we'll win for sure." She turned to berate Katie. "And if he does pull it off, keep hold of the quaffle for God's sake!" Katie stared in disbelief. "Okay team, off to breakfast." She strode away.  
  
Fred comforted Katie. "Don't take it that bad Katie. A dive like that would have had me drop the world!" Katie nodded and smiled.  
  
They all turned and went into breakfast. Harry found that he was ravenous after the early practice. He devoured three slices of bacon, two eggs and a hash brown in rapid succession. Ron stared at him eyes wide.  
  
"You'd think we hadn't fed you for four weeks!"  
  
Harry shook his head. "Quidditch practice."  
  
Hermione looked up from the book she was reading. "Already?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Apparently the first match is earlier than usual. So what've we got first?"  
  
Hermione dived into her bag and pulled out her timetable. "Um…Potions." Ron groaned.  
  
"A sunny start to a sunny day!" he said sarcastically, looking up at the ceiling which showed the overcast sky.  
  
Potions, as usual, took place in the dungeons and, as usual, took place with the Slytherins. Harry had been right: Potions was no more fun than usual. In fact within ten minutes he had the horrible impression that it was going to be worse. The first sight that greeted their eyes as they walked in was the tall greasy man feverishly writing on the blackboard. Harry's heart sank even further as he read it.  
  
Rules:  
  
No talking, whispering, laughing, chuckling, smirking, squealing, shouting or any other form of noise in this class. You speak only when you are spoken to.  
  
No running, jumping, hopping, leaping or any other form of unnecessary form of movement in this class. You move only with purpose.  
  
No answering back or rudeness. You will do what I say, when I say.  
  
Any infringements on the above will cause a deduction of at least 10 points from the offender.  
  
  
  
Harry groaned inwardly; this did not look good. He glanced at Ron, whose mouth hung open in an eternal expression of disbelief. Dean and Seamus wore similar expressions. Hermione's lips were drawn up in a tight frown and Neville let out a tiny whimper which he quickly stifled with his hand.  
  
  
  
The new potions master, however, appeared to have extremely good hearing. He dropped the chalk and whirled around. "Who was that?" he thundered. The class shrivelled. Malfoy smirked.  
  
  
  
"It was Longbottom sir."  
  
  
  
Professor Ignia fixed Neville with a glare that would have raised the dead. "Longbottom!" he screeched. His face was strangely reminiscent of a beetroot. "Ten points from Gryffindor." Behind his back Malfoy smirked again. Ignia whirled around. "And twenty from Slytherin. Now to your seats!"  
  
  
  
Harry had to keep himself from laughing at Malfoy's disbelieving stare. It seemed that the new Potions teacher favoured Slytherin no more than he did Gryffindor. They moved to their seats quickly, Malfoy faster than anyone, anxious not to lose more points.  
  
  
  
The rest of the lessons continued in much the same fashion. Every single unwanted noise or movement drew points from the relevant house. By the end of the lesson the Gryffindors were left with pages of hastily scrawled notes, three extra text books, sore eyes and fifty less points. The Slytherins had fared no better: they had lost sixty.  
  
  
  
The entire class left the dungeons in a dejected state, muttering bitterly.  
  
  
  
"It's not fair, he shouldn't be able to do that!" shrieked Pansy Parkinson. "Snape never did that. Ignia's beastly. I want Snape back!"  
  
  
  
Harry privately thought much the same. He didn't like Ignia anymore than the others.  
  
  
  
The next period was Care of Magical Creatures. Although Harry was immensely relieved to see Hagrid, he couldn't help shudder at the thought of another lesson with the Slytherins.  
  
  
  
All thoughts of the previous lesson, however, were pushed out of his mind when he saw the magnificent specimen that Hagrid had collected. A sparkling white bird, the size of a swan, rested passively on Hagrid's mammoth arm. Not only the plumage was white: the gently curved beak gleamed innocently white in the now-emerging sun and even the talons that gripped Hagrid's sleeve were the purest white. When the bird opened an eyelid to reveal a pink iris, Harry knew that the bird was albino.  
  
  
  
Hagrid beamed at them as they formed a circle around him. For once, even the Slytherin's were quiet. Hagrid waited until they were all assembled before speaking.  
  
  
  
"Now this 'ere," he indicated the bird, "is a Caladrius. Very powerfully magic beasts. Also very vicious if yer give 'em 'alf a chance. Now, does anyone know what it can do?"  
  
  
  
Not to anyone's surprise, it was Hermione's hand that shot into the air. "The Caladrius has the ability, thought to be unique, of taking an illness from someone and then flying to the sun where the illness is burnt away."  
  
  
  
Hagrid nodded, pleased. "Take ten points. But there's one thing yer missed out 'Mione." Hermione frowned. Malfoy gave a smug smile. "If the Caladrius looks away, the person will die." Hermione blinked. It seemed that her textbooks hadn't informed her of that point.  
  
  
  
For the rest of the lesson, the class petted the Caladrius, with varying degrees of trepidation. Hagrid hovered around them doling out pieces of information every now and then. Harry didn't get a chance to talk to him until the end of the lesson.  
  
  
  
When the bell had gone the class dispersed slowly and made their way back up to the castle. Harry, Ron and Hermione stayed behind and helped Hagrid release the bird back into the forest. They managed, but not without a fair amount of difficulty.  
  
  
  
"Hagrid?" Harry asked.  
  
  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
  
  
"What did you do with Madame Maxime over the holidays?"  
  
  
  
Hagrid paused and looked at Harry closely. "We went to the Alps. Had to extend the 'and of friendship to the giants."  
  
  
  
Hermione bit her lip. "And did they accept?"  
  
  
  
Hagrid's face clouded slightly. "Course they did."  
  
  
  
Hermione's face lit up and she gave a large sigh of relief. Ron looked up at the castle.  
  
  
  
"Come on, we're late for lunch."  
  
  
  
Hermione and Ron turned and made their way back up to the castle. Harry lingered for a brief second and gave Hagrid a worried glance. Hagrid nodded grimly. Harry turned and left.  
  
  
  
Hagrid's lie may have calmed Hermione and Ron but Harry had seen right through it and Hagrid's nod had confirmed his suspicions. The giants had not accepted the hand of friendship; evidently the bitterness of past years had not worn off. No wonder Dumbledore had looked so strained last night. With the refusal of the giants and the prospect of the Dementors releasing Azkaban, any man would be worried. Not for the first time Harry cursed Fudge's ignorance. *That man's going to get us all killed*.  
  
  
  
Harry trudged up to the castle disconsolately. His mood was not improved when Hermione informed him joyfully that his next lesson was Divination: he didn't feel particularly like having his death predicted again for the umpteenth time…  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N okay folks, there you have it. The third chapter! Three chapters all up in one day. Phew! wipes sweat from forehead and peels square eyes from the computer screen And, yes I do have a life besides writing!  
  
So, you've probably figured that the Caladrius is gonna be pretty be important later on (save someone's life maybe? HINT HINT The fact that it looks away if it sees death is also important.)  
  
In the next chapter, Prof. Trelawney makes a strange prediction…and Harry had another dream…  
  
So bye for now, thanks for reading and maybe if I write in capital letters you'll REVIEW! Thank you. Constructive criticism is also appreciated.  
  
Luv baasheep  
  
Xx 


	4. Professor Trelawney's Prediction

A/N After this there probably won't be anymore for a while cos I have to do my homework (groans).  
  
There's going to be a brief change of POV in this chapter so enjoy!  
  
Thank you to bluejay08, I do like creative reviews. It's quite sad really: you wouldn't believe the way my heart leaps every time I see I have another review…ahem-now to the story.  
  
  
  
Harry ate a hurried lunch before making his way to the top of the tower where Divination took place. The room was stuffy, purple smoke rolled in gusts from the fireplace and stank the room out. The glittering insect that was Professor Trelawney sat comfortably entombed in her massive armchair. She watched the class carefully as they walked in and sat down in a circle around her.  
  
Harry chose a bean bag that wasn't pink or purple and sank down next to Neville and Ron. If he had been expecting another foresight into his early death, he was not disappointed. After keeping the class silent for five minutes by gazing at them in a forlorn manner, Professor Trelawney informed them that her crystal ball and told her that she should teach them lampadomancy.  
  
According to the Professor, lampadomancy was one of the oldest forms of divination and consisted of telling the future from the shape of a lamp flame. It had been invented by the Greeks and was one of the most accurate forms of divination which, as Ron pointed out ten minutes later whilst they were gazing into flickering flames, didn't say an awful lot for the accuracy of the art.  
  
After providing the class with a lamp each, Professor Trelawney swept around occasionally peering into one or two of the lamps. Harry had the awful feeling that she was skimming over everyone else so that she could arrive at his and enjoy the first "death" of the year.  
  
Harry, Ron and Neville had shoved themselves as far into the corner as possible without making it too obvious that they were trying to hide. The three of them sat there in silence burning their eyes out and trying to ignore the frequent glares that Lavender and Parvati shot in their direction. Ron gave up with a groan and flung himself back rubbing his eyes. Neville and Harry soon followed suite.  
  
"See anything?" asked Neville.  
  
Ron snorted. "Only that either there's going to be a fire soon or I'm going to see tiny little flames dancing over my vision for the rest of the day."  
  
Harry nodded in silent agreement and reached forwards to extinguish the flames. Before he had got anywhere near them, however, Professor Trelawney shrieked and, with a speed that denied her age, raced across the room to slap his hand away. Harry drew his hand back and rubbed it surreptitiously under the table, frowning. He watched with an ever sinking heart as she picked up his lamp and turned it round, looking at it carefully.  
  
"Hmm, this is an interesting flame. So bright and lively, it dances with life and yet gives off death," she opened the tiny door a little wider to allow the black smoke to escape, "a very interesting flame indeed." She paused and seemed to consider for a second.  
  
Behind her the rest of the class crowded round to see better. Lavender whispered furiously to Parvati and then turned to the Professor.  
  
"Um, Professor what does it show?"  
  
Harry shot her a glare; he had hoped that he might be able to avoid this. Professor Trelawney lifted the lamp up higher and squinted at it. Suddenly, the flame inside shrank in size and then guttered out completely leaving a tiny line of grey smoke weaving around the lamp. Professor Trelawney shrieked and dropped the lamp. It fell to the floor and crashed with a loud bang, showering the room in tiny slithers of broken glass. The class fell silent. Professor Trelawney bent down and carefully cleared the glass away to reveal the soot underneath.  
  
The entire class, with the exception of Harry, Ron and Neville who couldn't see, gasped and took an involuntary step backwards. Harry craned to see. The lamp had landed on the floor in such a way that the soot had spilt over the carpet in a strange pattern. From what he could see, it was a black and white image of a pair of slitted eyes staring directly at him. Harry suddenly felt sick; he didn't need to wonder like the others. His mind had already filled in the eyes red: Voldemort was gazing straight at him.  
  
Professor Trelawney swept up the soot with a dust pan and brush, then sank into her armchair and shut her eyes. Everyone cast furtive looks at Harry who desperately tried to sink into the floor. Finally, the Professor opened her eyes and looked at Lavender.  
  
"That flame was not a happy flame," she paused and glanced at Harry, "very unhappy, much like its owner." Harry could feel his face burning as the class turned to give him sympathetic looks. "When a flame dies without extinguishing, it can mean only one thing…" she fixed Harry with a meaningful look, "the owner of the flame will suffer from great pain and then, eventually, he will die."  
  
Harry actually felt quite relieved. The fact that he was protected at Hogwarts settled itself snugly in his mind and reminded him that he couldn't be tortured by Voldemort, not here. And what Professor Trelawney predicted certainly seemed better than a few of the ways he had imagined himself dying. Harry made sure that she could see him and then, very pointedly, rolled his eyes.  
  
Unfortunately, Professor Trelawney didn't see him. She had leant back again. Her eyes stared unfocused at the wall opposite her. Lavender looked at her worriedly and waved a hand in front of her. Harry had a familiar feeling…  
  
Professor Trelawney's eyes started to roll, her mouth sagged. She spoke in a harsh loud voice:  
  
"There is a snake in the grass. If the lion runs, Hogwarts will fall to the Lord. If the lion stands the hunting hound of the sky will fall. The Order of the Phoenix is rising, the Dark is rising. Time is running out, the race begins." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Beware the mists."  
  
Her head fell onto her chest and she took a shuddering breath. The class waited tentatively, but she seemed to have fallen asleep. The bell sounded. Professor Trelawney continued to sleep peacefully. The class left quietly and very much bewildered.  
  
Later, Ron tried to persuade Hermione for the millionth time that what they had seen was not, as Hermione claimed, "woolly." "I'm telling you, Hermione, you had to be there. She-she went all strange, kinda like a trance, and she predicted all this stuff…it was, well…weird."  
  
Hermione looked up from her arithmancy book and gave him a queer look. "Really Ron. In the third year you yourself said it was all rubbish. You didn't believe Harry then."  
  
Ron was taken aback. "Well, I wasn't there then was I! You can't expect me to know everything Hermione."  
  
Hermione slammed her book shut. "I wouldn't dream of it Ron!" She turned to Harry. "It seems to me that Harry is the only one who can say for sure. He saw it two years ago. Why don't you ask him Ron?" She turned and stormed upstairs to the Gryffindor dormitory.  
  
Ron stared after her, mouth agape. "Well, of all the…all I said was…Fine, she can have it that way if she wants." Ron turned and, he too, stormed off upstairs.  
  
Harry watched him go with only half a mind to stop him. He hadn't really been listening. He was thinking about Professor Trelawney's prediction. He was sure it was real; it had been exactly the same two years ago and that one had come true. Harry turned the problem over in his mind. He didn't have a clue who or what the lion was not to mention a snake in the grass or the hunting dog of the sky, but it was clear to him that if the lion, whoever or whatever it was, made the wrong choice, Hogwarts would fall to Voldemort. He shuddered at the very thought.  
  
Harry glanced around the room and then at the clock. It was getting quite late and he was tired; it had been an eventful day. The Weasley twins were huddled in a corner, wands at the ready and making small explosions. Harry had a strange idea that they were making more jokes things. Neville sat by the fire, a book about herbology resting on his lap and Angelina sat at the far end muttering to herself and looking incredibly like the fanatical Oliver Wood. Harry sighed and picked himself up. He went upstairs, undressed, lay down and started to drift off to sleep.  
  
His last thoughts were of the prediction and then, quite suddenly, he thought that Dumbledore ought to know. *I can tell him in the morning* He drifted off to sleep.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry found himself in a place he had never been before. It was obviously day because the sun was up, but the colours were dark and drab so that it looked more like night. The landscape was barren: there were no buildings or trees in sight and from what Harry could see, there was no life either.  
  
"Welcome Harry Potter to the future, my future…"  
  
The hackles, on the back of his neck rose ever so slightly and he turned, already knowing what he was going to see…  
  
* * *  
  
Ron was woken by a large warm weight that landed suddenly on his stomach. Choking, he sat up and, without thinking, pushed the whatever-it-was away. There was a thud, a hiss, a loud yelp, and a tearing sound as the curtains surrounding his bed were torn down.  
  
Surprised and slightly scared, Ron looked down. Crookshanks' large wide eyes peered up at him innocently. The cat disentangled itself from the curtains, padded towards the door and then stopped looking back at him. He wanted Ron to follow him. Ron sighed heavily, then clambered out of bed and followed it to the door way. "If Hermione let you in, I'm going to kill her…" He stopped as he saw what Crookshanks had wanted him to see. Harry was walking slowly down the corridor, eyes shut; he was sleep-walking…  
  
* * *  
  
…Voldemort! He would know that voice anywhere. Voldemort was smiling with anticipation. Harry took a slow step backwards.  
  
"Don't worry Harry Potter. I shan't kill you, not yet anyway. All I want is to show you the future." He waved a hand and the scene disappeared.  
  
This one was as barren and non-descript as the last one. The sky was, thankfully, normal and the colours had likewise been returned to their ordinary state. The soil beneath Harry's feet shifted slightly. A ring of Death Eaters apparated not three feet away from him. Harry jumped violently, but they didn't seem to notice. Their attention was focused on a small bundle of rags in the centre of the circle. Harry's heart froze as he realised what that small bundle of rags was.  
  
* * *  
  
"Harry, Harry, what are you doing?" Ron called after him. But Harry didn't answer, he didn't even acknowledge Ron's presence. Ron shivered; he didn't like this at all. Crookshanks hurried past him following Harry. Ron hesitated for a brief second and then followed.  
  
* * *  
  
Albus Dumbledore woke with the feeling that something was tremendously wrong. Frowning, he got out of bed, pulled on his dressing gown and slippers and made for the door. He opened it and then swept out of the room. He paused for a brief second in the corridor before making his way swiftly and silently down the spiralling staircase. He had a horrible feeling that this had something to do with Harry Potter.  
  
* * *  
  
Ron was finding it hard to keep up with Harry. Although Harry was walking he managed to cover ground much faster than Ron. As if that wasn't enough, Harry continuously disappeared down secret passages than Ron never knew existed. Ron was worried: something was seriously wrong.  
  
* * *  
  
It was Sirius. Harry let out a strangled yell and tried to run forward to help his Godfather but he found that his legs wouldn't move. He looked at Voldemort who was smiling like a satisfied cat. Harry stopped trying to run forward. Voldemort started to laugh at him. Harry could feel tears of frustration running down his face. Voldemort stopped laughing to consider him.  
  
"You would make a fine Death Eater. Perhaps, instead of killing you I will merely turn you to the Dark Arts. We will see. Take a good look at the future Harry Potter. You wouldn't want Black to die would you? Make the right choice." He lifted his head and laughed to the night sky.  
  
Harry stood, unable to do anything, watching as the Dark Lord scorned him and his Godfather. The tears continued to pour down his face…  
  
* * *  
  
Ron was surprised when he finally caught up with Harry. There were tears all over Harry's face. *My God what the hell is happening?* Ron didn't want to try and wake Harry; he knew that it could hurt Harry if he tried. He watched, helpless, as Harry's face became indifferent again and he started to move along the corridor once more. Ron glanced at his watch briefly: it was five thirty in the morning and he desperately needed the loo.  
  
* * *  
  
Albus Dumbledore made his way as quickly as he could to the second floor. Somehow, he knew where Harry would be. He glanced at his wrist watch. It was five thirty in the morning and he had an exceptionally full bladder…  
  
* * *  
  
Harry turned, burning with hatred, to Lord Voldemort. He only vaguely noticed the large snake that was curled up at the Dark Lord's feet and the man who stood one step behind him with a silver hand.  
  
Suddenly, Voldemort stopped laughing and looked at him curiously. Harry noticed the tiny hint of fear in the red eyes. *Why is he afraid of me?* But he didn't have time to think on it. Voldemort lifted his wand and, next second, Harry was engulfed in a wave of pain.  
  
* * *  
  
Ron could only stare as a door materialised not far from where Harry was standing. Without hesitation, Harry reached for the door handle and stepped in. Ron hurried to catch up. Once inside the room, he couldn't but help stare. Lining every wall was a massive collection of chamber pots. Harry, however, ignored these and made straight for the wall at the opposite end where there was a tiny patch of bare wall. Ron followed slowly. He stopped just behind Harry and peered around Harry's body to see better. Harry held out his right hand to the wall and laid his palm on the rough surface. Ron gaped as he saw the unmistakeable image of Fawkes the Phoenix emerge from beneath Harry's hand.  
  
At that point someone ran into the room. Ron whirled around and came face to face with Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore took in the events with a single sweep of the eye and marched forwards to Harry muttering something about Voldemort. Ron backed away: he didn't like the angry glint of steel in the Headmaster's eyes.  
  
Before Dumbledore even reached Harry however, Harry pulled his hand away from the wall and clapped it instead to his scar. He collapsed to the ground and writhed screaming in agony. Dumbledore was beside him in two short strides and supported him.  
  
Ron ran forwards and watched anxiously as Dumbledore checked his best friend for signs of life. As far as he could determine, Harry wasn't breathing…  
  
  
  
A/N  
  
MUHAHAHH, CLIFFIE!!!!  
  
Please restrain any flame throwing at this moment.  
  
So to recap…Malfoy is repeating Voldemort, Prof, Trelawney has made her third real prediction, Sirius is (maybe) in the hands of Voldemort and Voldemort is threatening to turn Harry to the Dark Side, that is of course if Harry survives, heh heh.  
  
Oh, I am evil I know.  
  
You probably saw straight through the prediction but I'm not very good at that sort of stuff and it serves the purpose.  
  
I hope you realised the reference to the chamber pot room. In book 4 Dumbledore claims that one morning he found a room that contained a collection of chamber pots. I quote "When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep out an eye for it. Possible it is only accessible at five thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon- or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder."  
  
Please review and tell me what you think or I might threaten not to continue the story…nah I couldn't do that but really  
  
PLEASE REVIEW  
  
Luv baasheep  
  
Xx  
  
PS If anyone wants to know when I update give me your email address and I'll email you lol ^_^ 


	5. The Order of the Phoenix

A/N I know I said this would take a long time but…um…I doubt that you're really that angry. Thank you to summersun, Jim, the man of few words, and Hyper Princess (hugs back, yay!) for reviewing. I really do appreciate it!  
  
I apologise to any astronomers in advance, I don't much about the Dog Star, Sirius except that there is one and it's in Canis Maoir.  
  
Btw, my offer still stands, if anyone wants to know when I update let me know and I'll email you! Lol ^_^  
  
The night was cold and the wind harsh. In the shadows, Voldemort waited impatiently for his servant to return. He smiled; Hogwarts would fall now that he had dealt with the Potter boy…  
  
A crackling of twigs and the swish of robes in the undergrowth: Wormtail. The short podgy man hurried forward to his master and bowed quickly. He cowered at the cruel look in his Lord's eyes and at the mad smile that curved his lips.  
  
"Well, is all as planned Wormtail?" The voice was crisp and high.  
  
"Y-Yes master. The Potter boy is…indisposed and, and the Betrayer is ready."  
  
Voldemort's smile grew to a grin. "Is the Betrayer well placed?"  
  
Wormtail allowed himself a chuckle. "Excellently placed, my lord."  
  
"Good. At least you did not bungle this up as badly as the last."  
  
Wormtail shuddered. "T-Thank you m-master." He turned as if to go.  
  
"Not yet Wormtail. I have another job for you. The Divination Professor, I believe she is named Trelawney, has made her third real prediction. She has already ruined my plans once; I will not allow her to do it again. She must be killed. Inform the Betrayer."  
  
Wormtail nodded and once again turned to move away.  
  
"Oh and Wormtail?  
  
"Y-Yes?"  
  
"This is for keeping me waiting."  
  
Wormtail was instantly overwhelmed by a wave of intense pain. His screams of agony mingled with the pitiless laughter of his master and the two sounds drifted up into the cold night air.  
  
* * *  
  
Ron watched anxiously as Dumbledore bent over Harry's body. Harry still wasn't breathing at all and he wasn't even sure if there was a pulse. *Oh God, please don't die Harry, please!*  
  
Dumbledore looked up, a worried expression on his face and the clear blue eyes had lost their sparkle. He held out his wand pointing it directly at Harry's chest, took a deep breath and uttered a few well-chosen words. A warm yellow glow ebbed out of the end of the wand and settled over Harry's heart where it shimmered once, twice and then disappeared slowly.  
  
Ron could hardly believe his eyes when he saw Harry take a small, but unmistakeable, breath…  
  
* * *  
  
Padfoot padded silently through the forest. The night was cold and bitter and the wind was strong, but Padfoot was protected by the towering trunks of the trees that sheltered him from the wind. The stars shone clear and bright in the night sky. Padfoot paused and peered up at the sky. He smiled inwardly as he saw the brightest star in the heavens, the Dog Star Sirius. *That's my star!* He bent his nose to the ground and sniffed hungrily for the scent he was trying to follow.  
  
Suddenly, he caught it: a faint whiff on the still air. He raised his head and bayed before padding off once more. *If Sirius is the Dog Star, I suppose I'm the hunting dog of the sky…*  
  
* * *  
  
Dumbledore heaved a great sigh of relief and turned to Ron who was still hovering anxiously nearby. "Get Madame Pomfrey and bring her here immediately. Harry may not have long." Ron nodded and sped off.  
  
Dumbledore leant back and watched Harry's laboured breathing. The boy was deathly pale but his skin was burning. He berated himself. *I shouldn't have let this happen. I should have known something like this would happen away from the protection of his relatives…* He shook his head stubbornly. There was nothing he could do now: the Order of the Phoenix had arisen and it wasn't going to go away.  
  
A few moments later, his reverie was broken by the sound of heavy breathing and two pairs of feet running down the corridor. Suddenly, the figures of Ron and Madame Pomfrey appeared silhouetted in the door way. Madame Pomfrey let out a sharp breath and hurried to Harry's side. She fussed for several minutes, checking this and that before turning to Dumbledore, a fierce expression in her eyes.  
  
"How the hell did he manage this?"  
  
"Voldemort, Poppy. It has started."  
  
Madame Pomfrey gasped and raised a hand to her mouth. Her next words were in a whisper. "We should get him to the hospital now. As far as I can see, he's in no danger from being moved."  
  
Dumbledore nodded and conjured up a stretcher.  
  
* * *  
  
Padfoot hurried faster and faster: he could smell the scent of his quarry stronger as he travelled nearer and nearer. A sound, tiny to the human ear, rang like an alarm bell. He halted in his tracks. Cautiously, he sniffed the air for any sign of predators: there were none but… there it was! It was faint but he could have recognised it anywhere. The shaggy black dog quailed, then turned and ran back, tail between his legs.  
  
He never wanted to be near the Dementors ever again.  
  
He may have gone another way however if he had known that, directly ahead of him, a group of Death Eaters were also making their way through the forest.  
  
The wind died down slightly and the trees ceased their constant movement. The night remained silent. That is until there came the sound of a terrified yelp, a few moments of crashing undergrowth and then finally, terribly, the sound of an agonised howl that hung in the air.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry was trapped: he just couldn't find his way out. He was floating, suspended in oblivion, detached from his body. He could see his body, as if in a dream, lying on a bed motionless and hardly breathing. It didn't make sense. Why should he be here and, at the same time, there?  
  
"Harry, Harry? Can you hear me? Harry!"  
  
Part of Harry could see the worried face of Professor Dumbledore leaning over him; the other part could see nothing but black. It was very confusing and rather dizzying. The noise was deafening and he wanted it to go away. And he told it so, or he tried to. But even such a simple thought process as that proved incredibly difficult. He had to think it through one step at a time.  
  
The voice came again, deafening and buzzing. "Harry, if you can hear me you have to try to wake up! Please."  
  
Another voice, higher and ear splitting. "Albus, what do you think you're doing?"  
  
A sigh. "This isn't an ordinary sleep Poppy! This is some sort of a curse."  
  
A brief intake of breath. "You-know-who cursed him? But how Albus, he wasn't anywhere near!"  
  
"It has something to do with the Order of the Phoenix. We can't do anything but encourage Harry…"  
  
Harry stopped listening to them; they were far too loud. Besides, he was trying to order his thought processes and it was taking an extraordinary amount of concentration and energy. He sighed and pushed everything away so that he could focus on one thing: himself.  
  
It took a while, but gradually he was awarded by the sense of lifting, as if the wreaths that enveloped him were slowly falling away.  
  
A sudden interruption: "Albus," high and terrified, "what's happening? He's burning up!"  
  
NO! He pushed them away and fought harder…there was something there: something that stopped him from regaining consciousness. It hovered just above him, tantalisingly out of reach. Yet however hard he tried, he couldn't reach it. Exhausted, he gave up the struggle, sinking back into the darkness that waited for him.  
  
There was a sound, bell-like and warm. Soft, sweet and pure, his heart rejoiced: it was phoenix song. There was a burst of intense light, so bright that Harry screwed his eyes shut. He could feel the presence of Fawkes near him, encouraging him, urging him to struggle harder.  
  
With the aid of Fawkes, Harry floundered upwards towards the light and the voices. The obstruction halted him but he pressed against it and it shattered into hundreds of pieces. There was a sensation of floating upwards, drifting easily.  
  
The world slammed back into perspective leaving him breathless and terribly weak. He took a shuddering breath, and then another. Slowly, he forced his eyes open. Pain exploded behind his eyelids…  
  
* * *  
  
Sirius woke feeling groggy and disorientated. He peeled his eyes open slowly and squinted as light flooded in. He could tell he had transformed back into a man: his senses were duller, his thoughts more complicated.  
  
What was he doing here? Who brought him here? And, most importantly, where was here? He raised his head to try and see better. He was bound, he could tell that much from the sudden pain and pressure in his chest, wrists and ankles. He ignored the pain and struggled into an upright position.  
  
Once sitting, he took stock of his surroundings. He was in some sort of a cell, damp and almost pitch black. The only light came from the tiny window positioned high on the opposite wall. Through it, he could just see the moon. He smiled, he liked the moon: it reminded him of Moony.  
  
Sirius became alert as he heard the soft swishing of robes outside. Footsteps halted outside his door, then the door was slid open with a loud bang. Peering in at him was a face Sirius would rather not see. It was Peter Pettigrew. Peter seemed thin and gaunt but greed and hunger burned behind his delirious eyes. Peter grinned maliciously at him and walked forwards. Sirius stared back at him with defiance and hatred. He vaguely noticed the silver hand that Harry had told Dumbledore of.  
  
Harry! Sirius panicked. He had a strange feeling that Harry was in danger from Voldemort. It was strange he reflected, that as Peter advanced upon him grinning like a lunatic, his thoughts should be not for him but for his Godson, Harry…  
  
* * *  
  
Albus Dumbledore sighed and tried to explain to Poppy, for the fifth time that night, what the Order was.  
  
"It is not a…a being as you would call it then. It does not strive for evil or for good. It simply protects those under it until they are of a time to understand it and confront it better."  
  
Poppy frowned. "But that would mean that You-Know-Who is under the protection of the Order as well as Harry."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "That is one of the draw backs. The Order however, will prevent Voldemort from physically killing Harry, until they are both released, and that is the good thing."  
  
"But why has it come now?"  
  
"The Order will only arise when there comes a time when two wizards force their brother wands to do battle against each other. There have only been two recorded Orders before this one. The first was, I believe, in 1425. That was the Order of the Dragon. The more recent incident was in 1905 and that was the Order of the Unicorn. There has never been an Order of the Phoenix before. Each Order will have its own characteristics, much like those it protects, and that is the reason I was anxious that this should not happen. I know nothing about this particular Order!"  
  
Poppy glanced at Harry who was still inert before speaking again. "Well, it has happened Albus and you mustn't beat yourself up for it. We have to try and discover the particular traits of this Order."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "That is the reason I tried to wake Harry earlier. I believe that one of the traits of this Order is that the two involved share some sort of a link between them. I think that Voldemort has been manipulating that link, and that is probably the reason he wanted Harry's blood in the resurrection: it would make the connection stronger and therefore easier for him to control. Harry did not sleep-walk tonight, I am certain of it. Voldemort made him go to that room."  
  
Poppy shivered at the angry glint in the Headmaster's eyes. "Why that room?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed and the anger dropped away like a cloak. "I do not know and I so dearly wish that I did." He brightened. "But that selfishness in taking Harry's blood will be the downfall of him. Harry's blood has made him mortal and not immortal."  
  
Poppy nodded, hope once more suffusing her veins. "But if the Order protects, why has it allowed You-Know-Who to do this to Harry?"  
  
"Voldemort has found a way to control the Order to his own advantage. While he cannot physically kill Harry, he can kill Harry from the inside out until what remains is but a shell. The effect would be much the same as a Dementor's Kiss."  
  
Poppy shuddered. "We can't let that happen!"  
  
Dumbledore nodded fiercely. "Although the Order cannot be broken until Fawkes, who is the guardian, chooses, we can find a way to shield Harry from Voldemort." His eyes took on an almost mad light. "And perhaps we can find a way to retaliate."  
  
Both were interrupted by a faint groan from Harry. The light that had been in Dumbledore's eyes only a second before, now vanished and he was by Harry's side in seconds. Poppy's eyes widened.  
  
"Albus, what's happening? He's burning up!"  
  
Dumbledore was speechless. Harry was reeling on the bed, sweat pouring down his temples. His eyes rolled madly and his breaths came in ragged gasps. Dumbledore could see that Harry was fighting some sort of an internal struggle.  
  
Abruptly, the movement ceased. Harry's body slumped and fell down back onto the bed. He took a shuddering breath, and then another.  
  
Both Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey sighed with immense relief as the vivid emerald eyes finally flickered painfully open.  
  
* * *  
  
Hundreds of miles away, in a tiny dark cell an agonised scream broke the silence of the night. The screams continued for several hours…  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N MWAA HAHAHAHA! ANOTHER CLIFFIE! Hey, I'm getting good at this.  
  
I hope the explanation of the Order of the Phoenix was good enough but if it wasn't let me know and I'll try to make it better. Promise (but you'll have to tell me what you didn't understand!) Any questions are welcome. ^_^  
  
So, hopefully, you're starting to get the prediction now (if not I suggest you read the prediction again and then read Padfoot's bits in this chapter *very* carefully).  
  
You can flame me now if you want (although please give a reason). You didn't think I'd let Harry die did you? Well, maybe I will later on in a chapter I'm naming "Prongs". And he's not in a very good state at the moment anyway.  
  
And any Snape fans will soon see another appearance of their fave Potions master! Yay! (gooo Snape!!!!!!)  
  
And what's going to happen to Sirius? He's in a rather sticky situation!  
  
Thank you for reading and please REVIEW (I really really like them)  
  
Come back every now and then if you liked it to see when I update. I promise I'll never keep you waiting that long:-)  
  
Luv Baasheep  
  
Xx  
  
P.S Please review! A few mentions to other people here and there wouldn't go amiss either…looks up at the ceiling whistling innocently  
  
Thanx, luv ya!  
  
PPS I'm already thinking of a sequel but only if enough people want it so if you want one you'll have to review and let me know. 


	6. Old friends

A/N Wow, I'm getting these out fast, I hope you enjoy them! Hugs go to Hyper Princess and Bob for reviewing again, I like people who stick with me! And thanks to Kerry and wapi too! I would like to assure you that wapi isn't mad, she knows me from school so if she sounds a bit wacky, its most likely because its some sort of a personal joke (or she could be insane, I haven't quite worked which out yet- no offence to wapi)Before I continue the story I have to answer a question.  
  
Bob- Damn you for being so bloody intelligent. You weren't supposed to realise that I'd skimmed that bit rolls eyes, some people really! Well, let's see…can I tell you anything without really giving the plot away? Umm…well the guardian is there to see that no one violates the Order. And yes, I know that's precisely what Voldemort is doing. That's the point and I can't tell you how yet. If you really want to know, you'll have to continue reading until that part gets revealed in the plot. Sorry…  
  
Btw, this constant shifting of POV will probably stop within a chapter or so, so enjoy it while you can  
  
So, on with the story…  
  
  
  
Harry winced as the bright light burst into his senses confusing and disorientating him. After a moment or two, his vision began to swim back into focus: he saw the anxious expressions on two people who were bending over him.  
  
"Harry. Harry, are you all right?" The voice was deep and meant to be soft, but even the smallest sound caused his mind to reel and begin to shut down. He made an incomprehensible groan and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the noise and the light.  
  
Instantly, the light dimmed and he was grateful for it, but the voice persisted cruelly.  
  
"No Harry, not yet. Don't fall asleep yet."  
  
Harry tried to ignore it but it was hard when the owner of the voice shook him, even if it was shaking him gently. His brain rattled inside his skull and the pain opened his eyes wide. Abruptly, everything snapped back into focus and his thoughts rearranged themselves in the right order.  
  
Harry sat up so suddenly that both the figures jumped slightly. He cast his eyes briefly over the surroundings and then locked gazes with the man on his right. His head still throbbed painfully but at least he knew what was happening now…except for one thing.  
  
He raised a hand to his head and kneaded his temples before speaking. "Umm…Professor? Why am I here?"  
  
Harry was surprised when he saw the immense look of relief mixed with joy that crossed Dumbledore's face.  
  
* * *  
  
Sirius leaned back in the dark cell and breathed heavily. It was almost dawn and he was glad for it. Somehow, the tortures he had endured that night would seem less real with the coming of the new day. He winced and tried to move into a more comfortable position but he found that he was too weak. The rigours of the night had left him drained and aching all over. He could finally appreciate what Harry had been through last year; the cruciatus curse shouldn't be allowed to exist.  
  
He looked at the moon outside which, although it was still visible, seemed watery. Looking at the moon made him think of his dog form. He frowned. He had tried many times during the night to transform into a dog to run away but his ability seemed to have been severed. How had Voldemort done it?  
  
He jumped violently as the door slid open. In the entrance stood a figure robed in black and wearing a mask. Sirius groaned, not again! But the figure made no move towards him: instead it stood for several minutes and watched him. Finally, it walked slowly into the cell. It spoke softly.  
  
"I think that it is time we learn to trust one another." The figure reached up and pulled off the mask. Sirius couldn't stop himself from gasping. It was none other than Professor Severus Snape…  
  
* * *  
  
Professor Dumbledore couldn't conceal the delight that crossed his face as Harry suddenly spoke. He had been so afraid that Harry might have forgotten who he was or…other…things. After all, who knew what Voldemort was capable of with some sort of a link with Harry? He halted his thoughts in order to answer the boy.  
  
"Hmm…Harry this could be hard to explain. Let's see…"  
  
Dumbledore explained to Harry what he believed had happened during the night and what it meant. He told Harry of the Order and, luckily, the boy seemed to grasp it fairly quickly or at any rate, faster than Poppy had.  
  
"So this…this Order supposedly protects me from Voldemort…and you said that Fawkes is the guardian, but if Fawkes is there to make sure nothing goes wrong, how come Voldemort can do that?"  
  
Dumbledore frowned. He had been thinking much the same thing himself. The guardian was supposed to uphold the Order, so why had Fawkes let it become like this? It didn't make sense except…maybe there was an explanation.  
  
"I do not know the truth Harry but I suspect that Voldemort has tricked Fawkes, deceived him, or is somehow controlling him."  
  
Harry thought about this. He didn't think that Fawkes was being controlled. If he was, Harry was sure that he wouldn't have been able to help Harry when he had been trapped with nowhere to go. But how was Voldemort deceiving Fawkes then? To the best of his knowledge, powerful magic creatures could not be tricked or deceived except by a very old and powerful magic that no one had possessed for over a thousand years. And even then, that magic was hereditary and didn't come from the same bloodlines as parseltongue. So how was Voldemort fooling Fawkes? It didn't add up. And he told Professor Dumbledore as much.  
  
Dumbledore frowned and, minutes later, Harry found himself telling Dumbledore everything: the prediction, the dream, the timely arrival of Fawkes…. After Harry had finished, Dumbledore nodded briefly to Harry. He glanced at his watch.  
  
"It is almost time for the school to wake up. I suggest that you rest here for today and, if you are feeling up to it, return tomorrow. Madame Pomfrey will most likely be checking up on you to make sure that you did not suffer any more damage." He allowed himself a small smile. "If you will excuse me, I must talk to someone. I think it is high time that he returned to Hogwarts." And with that, he swept out of the room leaving Harry feeling slightly surrealistic.  
  
Madame Pomfrey, who had vacated the premises during the long-winded explanation of the Order, returned carrying with her a large bottle of vile- looking medicine.  
  
* * *  
  
Professor Dumbledore quietly shut the door behind him and left Harry to the mercies of Poppy. He chuckled at the thought of all the medicines that would most likely be poured down the unfortunate victim's throat within the hour…  
  
Dumbledore made his tired way back up to his office. The morning bell sounded for the students to get up and he suddenly realised what little sleep he had had. He continued upwards towards his office, occasionally berating the odd rebel stair-case.  
  
Finally, he reached his office and was surprised to see that the door was wide open. He had obviously left it in a hurry and neglected to close the door. Once inside his office he paced the floor anxiously. Fawkes opened a single eye to regard him with disapproval. Dumbledore sighed and stroked the bird gently. "What is going on with you, hmm?" But of course, the magnificent bird did not answer.  
  
He sighed and took a pinch of powder from an intricate bowl on the mantle- piece. He threw the powder into the fire and waited until it burnt a lustrous purple before saying loudly and clearly: "Remus, I need to speak with you."  
  
Slowly, the head of Remus Lupin came into vision, formed by the flames of the fire. "Yes?" he asked calmly.  
  
"It's about the Order of the Phoenix. I think you need to return to Hogwarts, and soon."  
  
Lupin's face fell as he heard these words. "Ah, right. I'm on my way…" The head vanished from the fire and Dumbledore was left staring at the fire. *Well, that was easier than I expected*  
  
* * *  
  
Harry grimaced as Madame Pomfrey left, another large bottle clutched under her arm. That one had been worse than any of them, and that was saying something. He surreptitiously worked his mouth to try and rid it of the potion. He hadn't tasted anything this nasty since the skele-grow potion he had been given during his second year when the bones in his arm had been accidentally removed.  
  
And so he was immensely relieved when, after the eighth or ninth try of potion, Hermione and Ron walked through the door. He was vaguely surprised: he didn't think the time had gone that quickly but by no means was he complaining, especially if they saved him from the next potion in line.  
  
They hurried over. Hermione looked worried but, for some reason, excited too. With a glance, Harry could see that Ron was excited too (his friend had never been very good at masking his emotions). Harry sat up in bed and fumbled his glasses back onto his nose.  
  
"You missed the most AMAZING Defence lesson. It was so cool." Hermione was nodding her head in agreement.  
  
"Professor Figg knows loads. And she's really good at explaining too." Harry listened quietly whilst his friends told him what had happened in the lesson. From what they said, it had certainly been interesting, and he had missed it! He'd have to wait till next week to have a lesson with her.  
  
"So, um…how are you?" asked Ron quietly.  
  
Harry grimaced. "Apart from being intoxicated with these potions, I'm fine!"  
  
Ron laughed. "Don't complain, or Hagrid might turn up with stoat sandwiches to try and cheer you up."  
  
Harry couldn't keep himself from laughing.  
  
"You know, you really scared me last night. I was virtually pissing my pants!" Ron was suddenly sombre. Harry remained silent.  
  
Hermione pulled up a chair and sat down. "What happened?"  
  
So Harry found himself, explaining for the second time, what had happened to him and then he told them what Dumbledore had said. After he had finished, they all remained silent for a while none of them knowing quite what to say. Eventually Madame Pomfrey came bustling over and chivvied Ron and Hermione out. They left, promising to come back as soon as they could.  
  
Madame Pomfrey turned to him and advanced meaningfully with a large brown bottle underneath her arm.  
  
* * *  
  
Sirius stared unbelievingly at Severus Snape. He gaped openly. So this was the errand Dumbledore had sent him on: to re-establish himself as a Death Eater, and then spy on them for Dumbledore.  
  
Severus smirked. "Catching flies are we? I would have thought that, in your condition, you'd be more likely to catch fleas. But then, you've already got those haven't you mongrel?"  
  
Sirius glared and the old hatred came rushing back. "What do you want snot- face?"  
  
Severus' expressions soured and Sirius cringed: he was hardly in the position to taunt the other. The answer, however, took him completely off- guard.  
  
"To help you. As I said before, I think it is time that we learn to trust one another?"  
  
"And why would we want to do that?"  
  
"Well, you're not exactly in peak physical condition are you? And I need to get back to Dumbledore to inform him of something so we may as well go together. Of course, if you would prefer to rot in this cell and be tortured day and night…" he grinned, "I am sure it can be arranged." He turned to leave.  
  
"No wait…please help me." Sirius swallowed his pride to say those words. Much as he hated that slimy hook-nosed git, he was the nearest thing Sirius had to a ticket out of here.  
  
Severus allowed a tiny smile to flash across his features before turning to face Sirius. "Ah we have changed out tune haven't we?" Sirius said nothing. Severus gave a vexed sigh and bent to release Sirius from his bonds.  
  
Sirius flexed his sore wrists and tried to massage the life back into his feet. "Can we apparate from here?"  
  
Severus slowly shook his head. "This place has wards to stop anyone from apparating out of here. Anyone can apparate in but they'll find it harder to get out again. The place is riddled with wards. If we try to use magic they'll be on us within minutes."  
  
Sirius' eyes narrowed in sudden determination. "So we have to get out of there the muggle way then." He stood and, after a moment of unsteady swaying, made his way across to Severus. "Lead the way." Severus looked as if he could decapitate Sirius but he instead whirled around and left. Sirius followed him, fear starting to raise the hackles on the back of his neck…  
  
  
  
A/N So there you have it, another chapter and a minor cliff hanger (heehee).Things are starting to heat up now away from Hogwarts, whilst in Hogwarts things are cooling down for a while at least. Snape and Lupin are back too.(yay!)  
  
There's going to be a bit of quidditch again soon and should be a cool DADA Firenze and the Ford Anglia(such an unbelievingly cool car) will appear in a few chapters too.  
  
As always I'll email anyone who wants to know when I update, just let me know.  
  
And I've got a question to ask. Is there a knack to updating these or something cos whenever I update is seems to get shoved to number 300 or some such ridiculous number and no one looks there! Please give me advice, whether there's like a time I should update it at or something cos I'm real lost here. Thanx I would really appreciate it.  
  
Let me know what you think! So REVIEW!!!!!  
  
Luv baasheep  
  
Xx 


	7. Professor Figg

A/N Thanks again to all you out there who are reviewing, you make my day…I had a hard time deciding what to do in this chapter, not writers block, more writers choice. I couldn't decide whether to follow Harry or Sirius…ooh hard decision. Well don't kill me if I chose wrong…  
  
Btw I think I'm gonna change the title of this fic bcos there are so many. What do you think about Harry Potter and the Time of Betrayals? Let me know…  
  
  
  
After a night's sleep Harry felt perfectly fine and was ready to return to school the following day. He didn't want to know what Malfoy would say if he had to spend another day in the hospital wing…  
  
After a breakfast of horrible hospital food, Harry received one last check up from Madame Pomfrey before he was free. After a day of being stuck in a spotless bed, he was anxious to get back to school. Of course that was until he discovered he had double Potions first.  
  
Professor Ignia was not in a better mood than the first time they had met. As before, the entire class resorted to treading on needles so as not to anger him. Even Malfoy seemed to quieten down, although he didn't miss the odd chances to whisper taunts into Harry's ear when Ignia was occupied elsewhere. Harry for the most part ignored him: he was concentrating on making his Synide Potion turn a vibrant blue. He was all too aware of the fact that he would be taking O.WL.S later this year. Unfortunately, Professor Ignia seemed to be thinking along the same lines and gave them three times as much homework as Snape had.  
  
Harry finally succeeded in persuading his potion to turn blue and received a small amount of grudging praise from Ignia: even Hermione was having difficulty. Neville on the other hand, was having an uncommon amount of trouble. He had always regularly fallen into pieces in Snape's lessons, burning the occasional cauldron or spilling the odd fatal potion, but in Ignia's lessons he simply shattered. Never before had he actually succeeded in exploding three cauldrons, drenching half the class in a potion that was supposed to make the drinker levitate, singed the wall and burnt a hole in the floor. The half of the class that were unlucky enough to be soaked promptly began to sink into the floor much to the surprise of the seventh years below.  
  
Professor Ignia growled threateningly at Neville and advanced with wand outstretched. Neville paled and shrank behind the small twisted blob of metal that had once been his cauldron. Ignia's face twisted into a mask of disgust and hatred: it reminded Harry of the way Snape looked at him. Without taking his eye off Neville, Ignia pulled the disappearing heads up from the floor and mopped up the mess with a flick of his wand. The class waited in silence to see what would happen. Neville watched with growing fear, the other Gryffindors with anxiousness and the Slytherins with expectation.  
  
Professor Ignia was positively fuming and Harry would have sworn that smoke was pouring out of his ears. In fact, he looked like a smaller version of Uncle Vernon when Harry had walked in, sort of like there was dung underfoot. Professor Ignia stood silent and contemplating for a moment before advancing further upon Neville who tried to push his back through the wall behind him. "Detention Mr Longbottom for a month and you will be paying personally for all three cauldrons. And let me see…yes! One hundred points from Gryffindor." The bell rang abruptly which was lucky for Malfoy because he said something very rude to Neville. But Professor Ignia, with his bat-like hearing, whirled around, his face deepening to a dark purple. "And twenty from Slytherin," he bellowed. "Dismissed!"  
  
The class trooped out in a very dejected manner. Ron mutterd some very rude things about Ignia that Hermione pretended not to hear: it seemed to Harry that they still hadn't managed to completely patch up the remnants of the last argument.  
  
"Really," complained Ron. "He's unbearable. A hundred points! A hundred! You'd better win the quidditch match Harry or I might just commit suicide…"  
  
The rest of Harry's week didn't fare any better. In Divination, Professor Trelawney acted as if he were going to drop dead any second. After the first exciting Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid seemed to inexplicably lose enthusiasm: they were now working with giant sloth like creatures that seemed to hibernate forever. Transfiguration was unusually boring, full of scribbling notes and reading hundreds of books in preparation for animal transfiguration. And it seemed that the only lesson that could have cheered him up was Defence Against the Dark Arts and, of course, he had contrived to miss that.  
  
The only thing that Harry could take real pleasure in was Quidditch. He was up every morning training with the rest of the team for the match coming up in mid-October. Gryffindor seemed to be the first team to start training but they were closely followed by Hufflepuff who, in Harry's opinion, needed the practice. He noticed that Cho Chang was looking particularly strained and restless since Cedric's death. Thankfully, she hadn't gone so far as to blame him for Cedric's death, and for that matter no one else seemed to blame him either: evidently Dumbledore's speech at the end of last year had convinced them of the truth. For the most part, however, the students didn't let the current events worry them.  
  
The Gryffindor quidditch team could be seen training at precisely six every morning in fair weather or in foul weather, sun and rain and even on one occasion hail. Harry secretly thought that the other houses didn't have a chance this year. They had the best three Chasers in the school, a pair of human bludgers, a phenomenal Keeper and…well…the youngest house Seeker in over a century.  
  
The first week went in the most horrible way, drawing out every unpleasant second of work but, finally, it was time for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry waited in the same excitement as the rest of the class; he couldn't wait to see what made it so exciting and the teacher was obviously magnificent.  
  
And so it was that Harry met his teacher with a great amount of surprise. They had been waiting patiently for ten minutes chatting excitedly about the upcoming lesson, when Professor Figg finally swept in. Harry gaped. Professor Figg who was teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts was none other than his old baby-sitter Mrs Figg. Harry could remember clearly the time when Mrs Figg had broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and it was that event that had led up to his speaking with a Brazilian Boa Constrictor in London Zoo.  
  
It was hard for Harry to comprehend that the doddery old muggle he had known all his life was, actually, a witch. His astonishment must have shown clearly because Professor Figg looked up, smiled and spoke to him.  
  
"Mr Potter, I would like to see you at the end of the lesson if you don't mind." Harry nodded dumbly, then fixed his attention on the relevant page in the text book.  
  
The page dealt with any number of hexes and charms that one could perform and the counter courses and blocks that would repel them. Professor Figg informed them that she wished them to work in fours, practising the hexes and charms on one another, and that they would have a mini duel at the end of the lesson in which the winner would receive five galleons.  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione got into a four with Neville and spent roughly three quarters of an hour practising on each other. Somehow, Harry seemed to get hit with the more painful curses. On one occasion he sat with four eyes until Professor Figg came over and turned him back. Neville apologised deeply for the misfiring of the curse. After Harry had grown an extra arm, had his mind turned upside down, hallucinated several times and even oozed a thick green liquid from his pores, it was time for the duel.  
  
Harry wasn't overly worried but it seemed that almost everyone else in the room was. Neville sat in his chair twiddling his thumbs nervously without noticing that he still had a tentacle in his ear. Hermione was thumbing hurriedly through the book again and Ron was gradually growing redder and redder. Across the room, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were having a practise battle which resulted in a brief trip to the lavatory to empty suddenly overlarge bladders.  
  
Professor Figg looked at the expressions on the faces of the children and laughed softly. "Don't worry, this isn't a test. It's just to see how well you would react under real duelling conditions." Harry shifted uncomfortably: he knew exactly what real duelling conditions were. Professor Figg quickly scanned the room. "First I think we'll have Mr Finnigan and Mr Weasley."  
  
Ron groaned loudly and Seamus swallowed visibly. They both got up and walked to the front of the class room which had been magically expanded.  
  
Professor Figg spoke. "Now, I want a good clean fight you two. No bad play. When you're ready…Go!"  
  
Ron and Seamus both stared at each other for a second or so, then simultaneously raised their wands. Their shouts drowned the others' out. A jet of red light shot out of Seamus' wand and a green out of Ron's. Seamus' missed entirely and hit the wall creating a large black hole. Seamus had to duck ungracefully to avoid Ron's attack and he rolled under an abandoned desk. Ron's next blast didn't miss and Seamus broke out all over in red and green spots. The entire class roared with laughter and a very humbled Seamus returned to his seat after having been de-spotted.  
  
Ron's next opponent turned out to be Lavender Brown. Harry could see the slight discomfort on Ron's face at being made to duel a girl. Lavender had no such qualm and opened the duel with a well placed jelly legs curse. Ron wobbled around for the next ten minutes having been defeated by Lavender on the first stroke. Lavender remained champion for the next three duels until she was defeated by Paravti Patil who in turn was defeated by, surprisingly, Neville. Neville lasted for the next six duels much to everyone's, including Professor Figg's, surprise. Neville was very weak at actually attacking but, as his opponent's discovered, he was incredibly good at avoiding the curses thrown at him. Hermione beat him with a cunning charm that first split into two, confusing the opponent and she proceeded to disarm Neville with a well placed tickling curse.  
  
Finally, it was Harry's turn to face Dean who had beaten Hermione by going for the simple approach. Dean and Harry watched each other warily for a few seconds and Harry made sure that he had a desk nearby to hide underneath should there be no alternative. Dean started the duel by aiming at Harry's chest and performing the Impediment jinx. Harry, with the reflexes born of quidditch, dodged easily and sent Dean a jinx that sent him to his knees to avoid it. Scrambling up, Dean fired the tickling curse at Harry who had to leap under the desk to avoid it. The jinx hit the desk and Harry could hear the leg breaking off. Instinctively, he swerved to the right to avoid the shard of wood that he knew would come sailing past him. The class gasped as they saw Harry dodge the chair leg which he couldn't possibly have seen and a few clapped appreciatively.  
  
This was already the longest duel so far and neither Harry nor Dean had yet been hit. As Harry turned around to face Dean once more he saw the curse coming out of the corner of his eye. He had been too slow and Dean had taken the opportunity to use the Impediment jinx again. Harry didn't think: as the curse neared him, he reached out, connected his wand to it and flicked it away. A few seconds later and he was standing holding Dean's wand as well as his own having used the Disarming spell to grab hold of Dean's wand. It was only then that Harry thought clearly about what he had done and he realised that he had finally learnt the blocking technique that Professor Lockhart had tried, and failed, to teach him in his second year.  
  
Professor Figg regarded Harry with a new expression and he wasn't sure it was one he liked. She spoke softly. "You know Potter, you've a natural talent for this. You might want to think about taking up a career as an auror. Where did you learn that?"  
  
Harry had to cough to hide the sudden pain that the question had aroused in him. "I…um…had a little…err…practice last year. With the Triwizard Tournament and all…"  
  
Professor Figg's eyes widened and he saw that she understood the truth. One had to learn pretty quickly when duelling Lord Voldemort. Harry also saw that half of the class had guessed what he had really meant. Harry shuffled up to the front to receive his galleons and returned quickly to his seat, well aware of the curious glances coming his way.  
  
Luckily, the lesson ended a few minutes later. Harry watched as the others file out before going up to Professor Figg. She was rooting around in her top drawer for something muttering incoherently. Harry waited patiently for her to finish her search. Finally she looked up and blinked in surprise several times as if she had forgotten about him.  
  
"Ah yes. Mr Potter…It seems that I may need to explain a few things to you. Take a seat."  
  
Harry took the proffered seat and watched Professor Figg closely as she too took a seat. Harry had never really bothered to take much interest in Mrs Figg: she had been yet another muggle oblivious to the existence of magic. He never dreamed that she might have been a witch. She simply hadn't seemed the type.  
  
She regarded Harry with a strange look for a while until Harry started to shift uncomfortably.  
  
"Tell me Harry, exactly how much do you know about the death of your parents?" Blunt and to the point. Harry almost flinched. But he didn't answer immediately. What if she didn't know that Sirius was innocent and he somehow let slip that he was in contact with his Godfather…. She must have seen his hesitation and even possibly the reason for it because almost immediately: "Don't worry, I know of Sirius' escape. In fact, it was he that contacted me."  
  
Harry vaguely wondered how she had known that was what he had been thinking. "Right umm, well not much more except that it was Peter Pettigrew."  
  
Professor Figg nodded and Harry idly wondered where she was going with the conversation. "Do you know of the Fidelius Charm?" Harry nodded; he had a small understanding of how it worked. So what if that understanding had been acquired whilst hiding secretly under a table? "And you know the role of a Secret-Keeper?" Again Harry nodded, mystified. Professor Figg sighed. "Harry, what has Professor Dumbledore told you of the protections placed on you?"  
  
Harry frowned. He knew that they were there; Voldemort had said as much and Dumbledore had hinted at it but he didn't know any details. "Not much," he replied warily.  
  
Professor Figg almost smiled. "One of them is the Fidelius Charm and I am your Secret-Keeper. It was Albus' idea. I've never really been one for mixing with other witches and wizards; goodness knows why I took this job. I've always lived the muggle way, even when I was an auror. That's what made me such a small target: hardly anyone knew I existed and that meant that they would have a hard time finding you."  
  
Harry could see the mystery starting to fall into place but there were still two things that mystified him. The first: "But Dumbledore said that I needed to be with my relatives to make the protections work. That doesn't make sense if it's the Fidelius Charm."  
  
"Well, you see…normally the one seeking protection would cast a few of the base spells. But because you were too young, Albus had to…um…*bend* the rules to use the spell. He managed to perform the spell, but one of the drawbacks was that you needed to live with relations, something to do with the bloodlines, I'm not crystal clear on that bit."  
  
"But…um…"  
  
She cut him off. "Why didn't I tell you before?" He nodded. "That would break the spell, I couldn't. I'm sorry." And she really did look sorry. He frowned there was something she had said that didn't seem quite right…  
  
"But wouldn't this be breaking the spell now then?"  
  
She shook her head, almost sadly. "No. The spell ended on your fifteenth birthday. That was another drawback of changing the rules. Albus was almost out of his mind this summer with worry; he needed to find a substitute for the Charm but just couldn't find one. Lucky really, that this Order thing has stepped in. That is, of course, if we can protect you from the link."  
  
Harry nodded in understanding, but he preferred not to think of the link. He could feel it now, faint but ever present and it was immensely annoying. To say nothing of the fear it installed in him. It would definitely be good if he could learn to stop Voldemort from doing whatever it was he had done.  
  
Suddenly, the door flung open and a group of Gryffindor seventh years trailed in looking curiously at Harry. Professor Figg stood up hurriedly. "I hope that has cleared a few things up for you." Harry nodded and got up to leave. "Oh, and Mr Potter…" Harry turned around. "I shouldn't really take sides but I was in Gryffindor…. Please win that quidditch match. The Slytherin students are becoming almost unbearable."  
  
Behind her, the seventh years grinned.  
  
  
  
A/N Okies, hope ya liked it. Maybe you weren't expecting that thing with Mrs Figg but you probably were much smarter than I am.  
  
There's a quidditch match either in the next chapter or the one after that. It depends on whether I follow Sirius' escape or have lots of quidditch. Tough decision…we could put it to the vote…  
  
Let me know what you think about the title change.  
  
And please review!  
  
Thanks  
  
Luv baasheep  
  
Xx 


	8. Gryffindor v Slytherin

A/N Sorry it's been a little longer in coming but I do have an excuse! I've had a temperature of over 100 for the past four days...So for all you impatient peeps out there, I've dragged myself off my death bed to give you the next chapter (so what, I'm exaggerating a little, shoot me!)  
  
Once again, all hugs go to reviewers.  
  
-------And I'd suggest you go and read some of jona's stuff. It's really good...  
  
This chapter is dedicated to wapi. She was the only one to bother actually telling me whether I should do quidditch or Sirius in this chapter. So if you wanted Sirius, flame wapi...ENJOY THE QUIDDITCH!!!!!!!  
  
As the first quidditch match of the year drew closer, the rivalry between houses grew. Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were all desperate to bring down Slytherin and, as the weeks narrowed down to days, tension escalated. There had already been three fights over the outcome of the first match which had resulted in three separate trips to Madame Pomfrey.  
  
Harry became increasingly nervous as the match came closer and, after several close misses, had to resort to careful inspection of the hallways due to a sudden increase in the number of outstretched feet. Harry spent most of his time in the Gryffindor common room with his friends. Any other time he owned was spent on the quidditch pitch.  
  
The night before the match found Harry feverishly doing his homework that he'd forgotten to do earlier. Divination, as always, was easy: he simply made it up. But Defence Against the Dark Arts was a lot harder. Harry didn't have a clue how half of the jinxes they had done worked: he had just performed them.  
  
After a further thirty minutes of homework, he was greatly relieved when Angelina finally stood up and announced it was time for the team to go to bed. Harry trooped upstairs with the rest of the team thinking that the match had better be worth the hype.  
  
Harry had a restless night that night: he dreamt that the Slytherins had all got hold of Firebolts and zoomed around the pitch setting fire to the Gryffindor's brooms. To make matters worse, the Gryffindor goal posts were massive, great caves swinging in the wind and so large that one could have fit an elephant inside. Tony had no hope of defending them. The Slytherin goalposts, on the other hand, were tiny, so small one couldn't fit a seed inside let alone the quaffle. And if that wasn't enough, Madame Hooch favoured the Slytherins who, whenever Harry flew past, turned into great black robed figures wearing masks...  
  
Harry was immensely relieved when he woke in the morning to find that the match hadn't started, that the Slytherins definitely didn't have Firebolts, the goals were all the same size, Madame Hooch was as fair as always and, generally, he could safely say that the Slytherins wouldn't turn into Death Eaters although he wouldn't put it past Malfoy...  
  
The weather was perfect for a quidditch match: not so cold that the ground had frozen, but not so hot that the ground had dried up. After a hearty breakfast and several "good lucks" from the Gryffindor table, Harry and the rest of the team made their way to the changing rooms. Angelina gave them the usual pep talk and, minutes later, they were walking out onto the turf.  
  
Harry was pleased to see that the entire school had turned out. Three quarters of the crowd were sporting the red and gold of Gryffindor and the crowd seemed swamped with banners of the Gryffindor lion. Only a tiny area located behind the Slytherin goalposts wore green and silver. Professor Ignia sat right in the front row in black scowling as if the sky had just fallen. In the middle area, Harry saw the commentary box. Once again, Lee Jordan, the Weasley twins' friend, was doing the commentary closely watched by Professor McGonagall. Much to Harry's surprise, several other teachers were also seated in the box including Professor Dumbledore.  
  
In the middle of the pitch the two team captains shook hands roughly. Harry caught sight of Malfoy and they each glared. Madame Hooch blew her whistle and they were off!  
  
Harry decided to save his glare for Malfoy for another time and kicked off with the others. He soared higher and higher, wind whipping through his robes, until everyone below was the size of a button. Harry patrolled the game like a hawk keeping an eye out for the snitch. Far below him, he heard the magically magnified voice of Lee Jordan announce the score as ten-nil to Gryffindor: "And the first goal of the game goes to Gryffindor, a superb throw by chaser Katie Bell. Of course, the real excitement this game is the new Gryffindor keeper Tony Hencher, will he be as good as Oliver Wood? And will the Slytherins' Nimbus 2002 be as fast as Potter's Firebolt? Potter incidentally, seems to be keeping well out of the way at the moment and personally I don't blame him. Those Nimbus' look like they may be able to outstrip even a Firebolt...and here comes Chaser Alicia Spinnet with the quaffle...she's powering up the pitch, dodges two Slytherins and a bludger...she throws...she  
SCORES!!!!!! TWENTY-NIL TO GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
Harry swept around the pitch several times when Alicia scored. The cheers of the crowd drowned out the sound of Lee's commentary so Harry spent the time searching for the snitch. When the shouts of the crowd finally calmed down, Harry once more tuned in to Lee Jordan. "And it seems that the Slytherin Seeker, Draco Malfoy, has got tired of looking for the snitch for himself and is going to trail Potter from now on. I'll guess we'll finally see which broom is better..."  
  
Harry turned around on his broom just in time to see the green blur heading straight for him. He managed to get out of the way in time and whirled around to find Malfoy hovering in front of him, an insufferable smirk on his face. But before Malfoy had time to open his mouth, Harry shot past him in an effort to lose him.  
  
Harry could hear the brief curse as Malfoy was forced to do a stupid twirl in midair to avoid him and he couldn't keep himself from laughing. But moments later, he heard the unmistakeable swish of the broomstick not far behind him. Harry risked a brief glance backwards and saw Malfoy not far behind on his shining new broom. Angelina's fears were confirmed: Nimbus 2002's were fast. But, Harry looked back just to check, but it looked to him as if the broom wasn't as manoeuvrable as the Firebolt...  
  
Harry grinned and accelerated towards the other end of the pitch followed closely by the sound of Malfoy's broom. He only vaguely noticed Lee Jordan announce that the score was now thirty-ten to Gryffindor. He didn't even notice the fact that most people weren't even watching the main game but had their eyes fixed on the two Seekers. For the next three goals, Harry wove his way around the pitch tailed by Malfoy. He had been right: Malfoy's broom wasn't as agile as the Firebolt and he was starting to have his doubts as to whether it was actually faster than the Firebolt.  
  
In the crowd below, Ron and Hermione were watching Harry and Malfoy along with everybody else. A loud voice and large thump announced the arrival of Hagrid who caused the entire bench to sag inwards towards him.  
  
"Dunno what Harry thinks `e's doin," he observed.  
  
Ron peered upwards again at the specks that were Harry and Malfoy. "Trying to get that git off his tail."  
  
Hermione nodded absently. "Pay attention to the rest of the match. Look! Slytherin's scored again. I don't believe it!"  
  
Ron narrowed his eyes. "They're cheating," he said.  
  
Lee Jordan seemed to be thinking along much the same lines. "So, it's forty all and goodness knows how those Slytherins are pulling this off. Despite those new brooms of theirs, there's no way they should be able to get this many goals past the Gryffindor Keeper...besides cheating of course and I wouldn't put anything like that past..."  
  
"Jordan!..." Professor McGonagall had to wrestle the megaphone away from Lee and there was a large amount of magically magnified swearing.  
  
High above them, Harry had finally had it with Malfoy. Glancing behind him to check that Malfoy was still tailing him, he pulled his broom around and dived. The wind whistled through his ears as he dived lower and lower. Harry could hear the sound of Malfoy's broom straining to keep up with him. He pushed his broom on further.  
  
Harry's dive had caught the attention of the audience below. Lee Jordan had stopped swearing into the megaphone and was now yelling incomprehensibly although Harry did manage to pick out the phrases: "Firebolt go," "slimy Slytherin," and "he's gonna crash!"  
  
But the last thing Harry intended to do was to crash, or rather, he intended Malfoy to crash. Harry plummeted straight through the knot of Chasers hovering ten feet below him and headed straight for the ground. Madame Hooch only had enough time to turn around on her broom before she saw a scarlet blur shoot past her on its way to the ground followed swiftly by a green blur. The audience fell silent and even Lee Jordan ceased his yelling. The two Seekers fell lower and lower in the sky and even the teachers in the commentary box stood up in anxiety.  
  
Harry kept his eyes fixed on the ground as it came nearer and nearer. Behind him, he could hear Malfoy's broom as it followed his inch for inch. When it became clear to the crowd, at about six feet off the ground, that Harry wasn't going to pull out of the dive they started yelling hoarsely.  
  
Ron, Hermione and Hagrid were standing up with the rest of the crowd, hearts in their throats.  
  
"They're gonna crash!" yelled Hagrid.  
  
"No they're not," shrieked Hermione.  
  
"But Malfoy is!" roared Ron gleefully.  
  
Ron was right. Thirty centimetres from the ground, Harry whipped his broom upwards and sank his feet into the soil where he came to a shuddering halt. Less than half a second later, Harry pushed off and was rising back up. Malfoy, however, was not as fast. Just before he slammed into the ground, he managed to get his broom tilted upwards. He toppled onto the ground and rolled over several times as Harry rose higher above him.  
  
Harry couldn't wipe away the grin that was spreading across his face. He had pulled off the Wronski Feint and even better, he had pulled it off against Malfoy. He should use this time to search for the snitch. Harry pulled his broom to a halt and looked around. It wasn't until then that he realised just how loudly the crowd was screaming. Harry glanced down at where he had left Malfoy. The pale Slytherin was standing up and reaching out for his broom. Harry didn't have long before Malfoy was tailing him again.  
  
Suddenly, he saw it. A brief shimmer of gold to his right and just above the heads of the teachers in the commentary box. Obviously Lee Jordan hadn't noticed it yet or the rest of the school would know as well. Harry turned his broom around and sped towards the box.  
  
According to Lee Jordan, Malfoy had remounted his broom and was accelerating upwards at high speed. Harry ignored Malfoy and concentrated on the snitch. The teachers still hadn't noticed but Lee Jordan wasn't quite as slow. He saw Harry coming out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"...Malfoy looks like he's going to give Potter a run for his mon...POTTER WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"  
  
If the teachers hadn't noticed Harry before, they certainly did now. Possibly, they even noticed the reason because some of them ducked. The entire school watched as Harry skimmed the Professors' heads, pulled his broom sideways, made a grab for the snitch and tumbled over in midair to avoid whacking Professor Sinastra over the head with his broom.  
  
It was several seconds before the teachers resurfaced and even then Harry was forced to rise several feet. Professor McGonagall, although severely shaken, was definitely smiling and she muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "damn good catch!" Professor Dumbledore hadn't batted an eyelid and beamed happily at Harry whilst Lee Jordan announced the catch to the rest of the school.  
  
Three seconds later, noise split the stadium and six scarlet blurs were speeding their way towards Harry. Harry rose still further and met them directly over the pitch.  
  
"Great catch Harry!" hollered George in his ear.  
  
"And that Wronski Feint..." Fred shook his head, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
The Gryffindor team sank to the earth in a yelling tangle whilst Lee Jordan still happily announced the results to the school. "ONE HUNDRED AND NINETY TO FORTY. GRYFFINDOR WINS!!!!!!!!"  
  
When Harry and the rest of the team finally reached the ground, the crowd broke and a sea of red poured towards them led by Hagrid who was plastered in Gryffindor rosettes. Harry grinned. And he'd have given it all away just to see the thunderous look on Malfoy's face again.  
  
A/N Well, now that I've written it, I can go and die in peace. Seriously, I feel really shitty...ah well c'est la vie(pardon my French).  
  
What did you think of the quidditch? Let me know so...ahem clears throat  
  
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Hugs go to:  
  
Ickle  
  
Casey  
  
wapi  
  
Hyper Princess  
  
SuNnY GuRL  
  
Prophetess of Hearts (sorry I'm dumb, what does *RaE* mean?)  
  
butterflygirl  
  
Bob  
  
jona  
  
elf_kitty  
  
for reviewing chapter 7  
  
and to the others for reviewing the rest!  
  
Thanx and please review  
  
Luv baasheep  
  
Xx 


	9. Out of the frying pan into the fire

A/N Thanks once again to all reviewers. Be warned, there's a bit of violence in this chapter. Not too much but it's still there (involves a giant hairy spider). So, now that I've got that announcement out of the way...enjoy Sirius' escape...  
  
Sirius glared menacingly at Severus' back as it disappeared once more into the shadows. *Damn cloak! Why does it have to be black?* He was so engrossed with his thoughts, that he didn't notice the yawning pit in front of him. Nor did he notice the arm that shot out from nowhere, or at least, he didn't notice it until it hit him. Sirius winced as the fist connected with tender flesh and whirled around to confront Severus, only to find that Severus wasn't there.  
  
"Are you planning on getting us both killed?" Severus snarled from somewhere below him. Sirius looked down and found his life-long enemy looking up at him from the ground. His body, up to the waist, seemed to have vanished down a rabbit hole. Sirius glared again just for good measure.  
  
"No. You're the one leading us down rabbit holes which, I might add, will get very small and we'll most likely suffocate!"  
  
Severus growled in exasperation. "Always were the teacher's pet weren't you Black. *I*, however, happen to know that this is not a rabbit hole!" He gave a smile that could have terrified the life out of a baby, and dropped from sight.  
  
Sirius reigned in his anger and peered at the hole. It was dark and he couldn't see very well: his eyes still hadn't become accustomed for some reason. He shoved the earth at the entrance aside with his foot and sat down at the edge. The hole was smooth and rounded. Upon closer inspection, it was evident to Sirius that the hole had never been used by rabbits and the droppings around it were merely for decoration. He swung his legs over into the hole and dangled them for a brief moment.  
  
He smiled. It would be too good to believe that that slimy git was still underneath the hole. If Sirius...*accidentally* dropped a pebble...  
  
He casted around for a suitable pebble and settled on a golf-ball sized angular rock. He hefted it up from the ground, weighed it cautiously for a moment, smiled again and then, with apparent carelessness, dropped it into the hole.  
  
Moments later, he was awarded by the sound of a dull thud and an angrily exclaimed "oww". Chuckling, he lowered himself into the hole.  
  
The drop was short and sharp and ended abruptly on a mossy carpet. He stood up muttering, "Oops, my foot slipped..." He could hardly keep himself from grinning when he saw the angry look on Severus' head and the grin almost grew into delight when he caught sight of an egg-shaped angry red welt on the side of his head...  
  
* * *  
  
"What do you mean he's escaped?" Voldemort turned threatening eyes towards Wormtail. Wormtail cowered.  
  
"H-He's...gone. Master. Just gone."  
  
"I see...I am most displeased Wormtail. You will, of course, find Black or there will be...consequences. Consequences, I should say my dear *dear* Wormtail that would not agree with you.... Send out our *friends*."  
  
Wormtail visibly paled and swallowed hard. Voldemort allowed himself a small smile. At Voldemort's feet, a sinuous sickly green snake hissed violently and writhed in anticipation. Voldemort's smile grew into a grin.  
  
"Not yet Nagini. Not yet, but soon you will have blood. When the Betrayer has dealt with that interfering witch, and when he has discovered the helpers I have placed near him...then. Then you will have your blood Nagini. And I shall feast with you."  
  
Wormtail shuddered at the sound of the hissing conversation. It was very eerie and, even now, it still sent shivers of fear down his spine. "Wormtail..." The soft sibilant voice stopped him in his tracks. He turned around, desperately hoping that last time's mistake had not been repeated.  
  
"There is yet another task I wish you to perform. My web of spies informs me that the werewolf is moving towards Hogwarts. Find out all you can. If he affects our plans, kill him. But discreetly. I don't want the position of my spies jeopardised. Everything must be in place for the release of Azkaban. Do you understand Wormtail?" Wormtail nodded. "Good. Then get on with it."  
  
Wormtail hurried out of the dimly lit room and down the corridor. He fled from the high cruel laugh and the gentle hissing that pursued him. Not for the first time, Peter Pettigrew wondered whether he had made the right choice...  
  
* * *  
  
Sirius once again had to drop behind Severus to allow the other man to take the lead. His earlier joke had cost him dear and Severus had not found it quite as funny as he had. He glanced at the damp walls and at the dripping water and shuddered. Underground wasn't his favourite place. In his opinion, there were only two types of men who ever ventured below ground: maniacs and corpses. As he could quite safely say he wasn't the former, it made him wonder just how long he had until he became the latter...  
  
Sirius shook his head and continued. Thoughts of death weren't exactly the most comforting things at the moment. Abruptly, Severus turned around and Sirius walked right into him. Severus snarled dangerously. "Stop it. You'll get us both killed!" He turned and hurried off into the gloom leaving Sirius lost for words. What had he done now?  
  
Moments later, Severus appeared again from out of the darkness. "I said *stop* it!"  
  
Sirius stared, mouth agape. "What? I'm not doing anything!" he replied indignantly.  
  
Severus glared. "Yes you are. You're thumping the walls. I can hear it and feel it. Stop it now. Don't you know that the dogs will be able to track the vibrations?"  
  
Sirius paled. "Dogs? Are there dogs following us?"  
  
Severus glared again. "Not yet, but there will be soon once they realise you're missing. So get a move on and stop thumping the walls!"  
  
"But I wasn't thumping the walls!"  
  
Severus whirled around to berate Sirius but stopped when there came a low steady thud. Sirius frowned. Where had that come from? Severus paled. "You didn't do that?" he whispered. Sirius shook his head slowly. Why were they whispering? Severus glanced briefly behind Sirius, causing Sirius to look as well but there wasn't anything there.  
  
Severus took a step backwards and jumped violently as the sound came again. "They're coming." Sirius noted how his pupils dilated to tiny pinpricks. "Run!" He turned and scampered off into the darkness.  
  
Sirius stood and stared at Severus' retreating back, having no idea what was going on. He wondered briefly what was supposed to be coming and how horrible it would have to be to reduce a man to such terror.  
  
There was another thump and this one was followed by a shout from above. There was a brief moment of a deep rumbling sound before earth started to shower into the passageway. Seconds later, a long hairy arm found its way into the passageway as well.  
  
Sirius definitely didn't like the look of the arm and he wasn't going to hang around to find out what it was attached to...  
  
* * *  
  
Wormtail watched the acromantula with growing worry. It still hadn't found Black, although it said it could smell him nearby. Another worry was the acromantula itself. They weren't the prettiest of creatures and this one was no exception. The body was black, hairy and plump. The head was small and slightly grey, fixed with eight red gleaming eyes. And on each side, four long hairy legs sprawled outwards.  
  
Acromantula were rare, very rare. There were only two colonies in Great Britain. Voldemort had chosen this one: the second was right on Hogwarts' doorstep which wouldn't do. Firstly, that colony was far too near to that muggle-loving fool Dumbledore. Secondly, there was any number of beasts in the Forbidden Forest who were too loyal to the Light to tolerate the Dark...those bloody star-gazing centaurs among them. He had chosen this colony for anther reason too. Acromantula colonies were one of the few places in the country that had been made unplottable which prevented any muggles from finding them. And any wizard sane enough to value his life, wouldn't go anywhere near them. Except for Lord Voldemort of course.  
  
Wormtail shivered as the giant spider reared up onto four legs and bellowed, waving its other legs in the air. Several of the Death Eaters backed hastily away. Wormtail snarled at the nearest one and the man turned to confront him. Wormtail reached out and whipped off the man's mask. The face was pale and hairless and belonged to a young man barely past adolescence. "Idiot..." he cursed the man, "it's only a spider. It can't hurt you!" Wormtail flexed his silver hand powerfully and watched with delight as the man's eyes widened and he took a rapid step away. The Death Eaters knew only too well just how powerful that hand was...  
  
The young man continued to back away, fear mixed with anger on his face. Behind him, the acromantula turned, fixed all of its eight eyes on the man's back and started to advance towards him. The man continued straight into its path, unaware of the danger.  
  
It happened in less than ten seconds. The acromantula lunged, pincers spread wide. The man, alerted by some primeval instinct, turned in time to see the fiery red eyes and screamed. There was a thud and a sickening crunch that ended the scream abruptly. Blood gushed out of the man and the Death Eaters turned away from the sound of ripping flesh.  
  
Wormtail blinked and swallowed. "Then again, maybe it can hurt you just a tad..."  
  
Seconds later, the acromantula raised its shaggy head and bellowed harshly, making them turn to confront it. It fixed them with all of its eight eyes. It lifted two pincers off the ground and started clicking them. The noise was loud and crude but it wasn't loud enough to mask the words of the creature. "Flesh...is tasty. Be careful, or you may be next..." It made a strange gagging sound that Wormtail supposed was meant to be laughter. The Death Eaters backed away even further, putting as much ground between themselves and the monster. Most of them had not realised that acromantulas could talk.  
  
Wormtail turned away from the scene, disgusted and horrified. He stopped a Death Eater near him and gave him orders. "See that the spider finds Black and kills him. He's too much of a risk: we'll have to find another lure for Potter. And kill anyone you find with him. There is a traitor within the ranks of the Death Eaters." He turned and hurried away from the acromantula. He'd never particularly liked spiders and his encounters with the giant variety hadn't served to up them in his opinion.  
  
Now to find that werewolf. He shuddered at the recollection of his last meeting with Remus Lupin. Being chased by a large hairy dog-like creature wasn't his idea of fun. Looking back, however, he supposed that it might have been Sirius chasing him rather than Remus but it didn't make that much difference. And that meeting hadn't been too nice for another reason...and Voldemort wasn't too happy about it either. Having a wizard's debt was bad in any circumstance but having it to the person you're supposed to be killing was...slightly worse.  
  
He smiled as he hurried onwards. All that would soon be resolved, however, when the werewolf was located. He might even be able to sort out that debt whilst he was at it...  
  
* * *  
  
Sirius finally caught up with the elusive figure of Severus which had collapsed besides the wall and was panting heavily. Sirius came to a stop and bent over wheezing. Severus looked up and then glanced quickly behind him again.  
  
Eventually Sirius spoke. "First, what the hell was that and second, what was it doing here?"  
  
Severus spoke to the floor. "Umm...maybe I should have told you this before. We're in an acromantula colony...we're in their tunnels but they abandoned these tunnels years ago because of weaknesses in the frame. I thought we'd be safe..."  
  
There was silence. Then: "A what colony?"  
  
Severus looked up again, an expression of incredulity on his face. "Did you never do any work at school?" Sirius' expression remained carefully blank. Severus sighed. "Acromantula...giant hairy spiders, carnivores and very fast. There are only two colonies in this country. The other is in the Forbidden Forest."  
  
"Why a spider colony?"  
  
"They're unplottable: muggles don't come here and wizards avoid these ugly things as if they carried the Plague."  
  
Sirius nodded. "I can see why...I think we've lost it. For a while at least."  
  
Severus nodded and stood up. "We're past the wards. We can apparate out of here now." He reached into his robes, rummaged, and then rummaged a bit more. Moments later, he withdrew his hands. Sirius noted, with dismay, that they were empty.  
  
"I've lost my wand...I must have dropped it..." Sirius groaned and looked down the passage. There was no way he was going back that way, not for the world. Judging by the look on Severus' face, he was thinking much the same thing.  
  
Silently, they moved off down the tunnel, away from the distant sounds of movement. Sirius noted, with a certain amount of relief, that they didn't seem to be moving fast. He heaved a heavy sigh. It looked like they were going to have to get to Hogwarts the hard way...  
  
A/N Well there's another chapter. Hope you liked it! Sorry about the violence, but I don't think there's going to be anymore and it wasn't that much...only one paragraph. As you may be able to tell, I have absolutely no love for spiders.  
  
Fortunately, I'm over my illness. Unfortunately, I have a great big stinking tech project to do. Fortunately (for you at any rate), I'm going to ignore that project so you can expect some more quite soon.  
  
Once more thanks to all reviewers:  
  
Sorry whoever lives at [1]seow_wen_bing@hotmail.com (or something like it) I tried to email you but couldn't...did I get the right address?  
  
Bob  
  
Hyper Princess  
  
Sailor Vegeta  
  
butterflygirl  
  
wapi  
  
jona-thanks  
  
Jcorrington  
  
arcee  
  
Starlight  
  
elf_kitty  
  
Lily Evans (thank you!!!!!!!! glad you like it.)  
  
moodyirishbabe- already reviewed another. Keep up the great work!  
  
Prophetess of Hearts-sorry I was so drugged up last time that I forgot to answer your question. Unfortunately, Harry does have to still stay with the Dursleys, for the pure reason that he hasn't got anywhere else to go. Maybe if Sirius' name is cleared...  
  
Thanx and review again!  
  
Next: Christmas, Harry meets Firenze and Wormtail comes across Lupin.  
  
Luv baasheep  
  
Xx  
  
References  
  
1. mailto:seow_wen_bing@hotmail.com 


	10. Christmas, pursuers and a full moon

A/N As I promised, I got another chapter up soon! Actually, I got annoyed cos not many people reviewed my last chapter so I decided to get off my butt, write some more, update and go to the top of the list again rather than stuck at 288 (where I currently am as I write this). So...enjoy  
  
Oh btw, not all the stuff that I said was coming up next is actually going to happen in this particular chapter...it might take two...  
  
jona- so you've read Fantastic beasts and where to find them too? Very cool book, n'est pas? I love the way you put it "wolfie-boy kick some wormy-butt", very stylish. I can't promise that that will happen, cos I don't know yet but I can promise you I won't kill Remus (he's important later on).  
  
So without further ado...curtains lift  
  
The weeks continued to pass and October ended in a flurry of leaves and a fair amount of storms. November came and went, ripping the leaves off the trees and covering the ground in blankets of frost each night. Eventually, December arrived and slugged slowly through the days leading up to Christmas. The fifth years were kept working feverishly right up to the end of term.  
  
Potions remained as miserable as ever and Neville reached a new record for the number of cauldrons he managed to melt in one term. After the initial shock of having Mrs Figg as a professor, Harry calmed down and really began to enjoy Defence Against the Dark Arts. Professor Trelawney had finally given up the idea that he would drop dead and had turned to her favourite pastime: prophesising Harry's death. The prediction she had made had been all but forgotten and Harry suspected she didn't even know she had made it. In Care of Magical Creatures, they had moved on from the giant sloth things to begin to look at some of the beasts in the Forbidden Forest starting with unicorns, much to the delight of the girls.  
  
With only three days left until the Christmas Holidays, the work slackened enough to allow the fifth years to relax and settle into a festive mood. The castle had already been decorated. Whoever had done it had gone slightly overboard. Boughs of holly were draped over the banisters of the staircases, causing many a pricked finger. Tiny bobbing fairies inhabited the ivy that snaked over the walls and over the ceiling. The fairies, whilst definitely very pretty to look at, had a streak of mischief that ran a mile wide and a mile deep. They dropped berries on peoples' heads, rigged the ivy so it tripped people, stole books and hid them in the toilets, smashed ink bottles on the floor and caused havoc with the lighting. Within three days the caretaker had gone mad and was occasionally to be seen arguing animatedly with the ivy whilst the fairies he was supposed to be berating hovered above him, invariably carrying a recently acquired and exceedingly heavy textbook...  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione spent their free hours in the common room playing games of wizard chess, exploding snap and gobstones. Small explosions from the corner that Fred and George had claimed as their own were considered perfectly ordinary now.  
  
Angelina had restarted quidditch practice with a vengeance. The Quidditch cup was to be awarded at the end of the spring term rather than the middle of the summer which meant that the matches came around more quickly. The Gryffindor team's next match was in early January, against Ravenclaw. Angelina trained them hard because since the Gryffindor v Slytherin match, Slytherin had played another two games, flattening both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Gryffindor had to win the match against Ravenclaw if they were to stay in with a chance of beating Slytherin. Because of this, the Gryffindor team were, once again, up every morning and training heavily in the increasingly cold weather.  
  
Harry approved highly of the constant quidditch training. It kept his mind off other things...mainly Voldemort. After the first quidditch match his scar had started hurting again, not intensely and not so much that it had him writhing in agony, but it was enough: the occasional twinge that caused him to lose his concentration for a split second or drop his quill in surprise. And there was always a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that made him feel like Voldemort was always near him or watching him.  
  
Luckily, neither Ron nor Hermione seemed to have noticed: they were far too busy arguing with each other. Hermione had once again started campaigning for house elf rights and Ron thought she was mad. The result was several heated arguments that invariably ended in slammed doors. Much to Harry's confusement, however, they had usually made up in a matter of hours only to have another yelling match a couple of days later.  
  
Fortunately, as Christmas approached, both Ron and Hermione calmed down. The amount of homework they received dropped. Fred and George came out of their corner and played havoc. The Gryffindors soon learnt not to eat, drink or even touch anything that had been left lying around the room. All in all, the Gryffindors were in high spirits when term finally ended and people went off home for the holiday.  
  
On Christmas Eve, Gryffindor tower seemed very quiet. Most people had gone home: only the Weasleys, Harry, Neville, Tony Hencher and the Creeveys remained. Hermione had gone home because a distant relative was getting married and had asked the Grangers to the wedding.  
  
After dinner, Harry, Ron and Neville decided to play a game of gobstones. Fred and George sat by the fire talking with Tony whilst Ginny and the Creeveys were bent over a table in the corner whispering excitedly about something. Harry had a queer feeling that it had something to do with him...  
  
Ron yelped for the fifth time as another of the stones spat at him. Neville grinned maliciously and moved again to take one of Harry's stones. The stone he placed in its place promptly opened up and drenched Harry in a smelly purple fluid. Harry took his glasses off and wiped them on a clean part of his robes.  
  
"I don't think I like this game..."  
  
Ron nodded and wiped his face with his robes. "How'd you get so good Neville?"  
  
Neville turned red and looked at his hands as he spoke. "I have a lot of spare time at home. I play with my gran..." he sighed and looked at Harry with eyes that said only too clearly he didn't want to talk about it. "Your turn Harry."  
  
Harry nodded silently and looked at the game board. He still hadn't managed to grasp the concept of the game. As far as he could tell, you were supposed to surround your opponent's stones so they couldn't move any of them. The surrounded stone vanished and one of the others spat at the loser. So far, none of Neville's stones had been captured. Harry was sure he was using some sort of a plan but he couldn't for the life of him work out what it was. He sighed, picked up a green stone and moved it closer to one of Ron's.  
  
Ron frowned and stared intently at the board. He wasn't anyway near as good at this as he was at chess. He squinted and looked at all of Harry's stones which were beginning to threaten one of his. Smiling, he moved it out of harms way and sat back, a smug look on his face. *At least I'm still better than Harry!* The smile was wiped away, however, when Neville picked up one of his and closed a trap that Ron hadn't seen before.  
  
He groaned. "Not again..." and he ducked under the table in an effort to avoid the purple fluid from Neville's stone. Eventually, he peered back over the table and was surprised when Neville and Harry stared at him strangely and then, inexplicably, burst into laughter. "What?" he asked defensively. Neville raised a shaking hand and pointed at his head before stuffing his fist back into his mouth in an effort to stop laughing.  
  
The noise caught the attention of everyone else in the room and they also, suddenly, burst into snorts of laughter.  
  
Ron stood up, his ears starting to turn red. "What is the matter?" he yelled.  
  
Fred pointed at him, sniggering uncontrollably. Tony got up from his armchair with a smile and carted Ron over to the mirror. Ron's jaw dropped open. His red hair had been sprayed with polka dots of purple fluid and the effect was very much like a Filibuster Firework. Tony shook his head, still grinning. "Suits you Ron. Going for the punk look I see.... Here have one of these; it'll make you feel better."  
  
Ron wordlessly accepted the chocolate frog and turned to the others. "If any of you say a word..." he began.  
  
The room burst into more laughter. Furious, Ron glared at them. Because he could do nothing else, he ate the chocolate frog which, for some reason, sent Fred and George into gales of laughter.  
  
Ron glared again. "It's not funny..."  
  
He was interrupted as the portrait door swung open and Professor McGonagall stepped in. "What *is* all this noise? You can be heard from the fifth..." she tailed off as she caught sight of Ron who was standing in the middle of the room in a small puddle of purple liquid which had dripped off his robes staining them a violent shade of violet. His face had deepened to crimson, setting off the polka dot arrangement nicely. And the whole scene contrasted starkly with the red and gold of the Gryffindor common room. Her lips twitched and Harry thought she was trying to hide a smile. "I would suggest, Mr Weasley that you take a shower."  
  
Ron, looking as if he wanted to sink into the floor, nodded mutely. Behind him, the entire room suddenly burst into more laughter. Professor McGonagall frowned. What was going on here? Ron shot a glare at Fred and George who were laughing the hardest, turned and waltzed up the stairs.  
  
Professor McGonagall's eyes widened and she couldn't keep herself from smiling as she caught sight of a bushy brown tail swinging from underneath Ron's robes...  
  
* * *  
  
Remus Lupin paused to look up at the stars and gauge his direction. The full moon shone brightly and he shivered. Thankfully, he was confident he wasn't going to turn into a wolf tonight. The wolfsbane potion had been improved during the past year so that the drinker didn't even turn into a wolf anymore. There were some side effects though. More hair, for one and for another, a tendency towards raw meat. His senses were more accurate as well but that wasn't really a draw back. At least he wasn't going to bite anyone.  
  
He grinned as the Dog Star winked at him. He wondered how Sirius was doing at the moment. He shook his head and corrected his course. More important at the moment was Harry. With the establishment of the Order, Harry could be in grave trouble from Voldemort. And Remus didn't like the way Fawkes was being deceived either. All in all, things weren't looking peachy.  
  
Not for the first time during this long journey, he cursed his stupidity. Why oh why hadn't he thought to bring his wand? Stupid, he knew, but he'd been so anxious when he left the house he had been staying in that he'd forgotten it. He hadn't noticed until two hours later because he'd needed to make a brief visit to a nearby house to alert a few old friends. When he'd returned to the house to retrieve it, he'd found that somebody had already visited. The front door hadn't been forced but he could tell something was wrong as soon as he saw it ajar. He was adamant he had shut it.  
  
His fears had been confirmed when his heightened senses had heard someone moving around inside. He had waited to see if they would leave but time had passed and he needed to be off as soon as possible. Hiding in the bushes outside the house, he hadn't noticed the soft crunch of feet on soil. So he'd been very surprised when another figure had arrived on the scene.  
  
The new arrival had spoken. "He's not here." It was more of a statement than a question and it didn't need an answer but the other spoke anyway.  
  
"No. The werewolf's already made his move. We think he's alerted the others. He left his wand behind..."  
  
The other figure nodded. "Break it. And lie in wait for the rest of the night. He may come back to retrieve it."  
  
Remus heard the unmistakeable sound of a thin strip of wand snapping. He winced. There went his hopes of getting his wand back...  
  
So here he was, three months later. Tired, cold, hungry and without a wand. Despite his lack of a wand he was still moving steadily towards Hogwarts and, judging by his position and current speed, he should arrive shortly after Christmas. Silently, he blessed the fact that he would arrive before the next full moon: he was beginning to run low on wolfsbane potion.  
  
The cracking of a twig warned him of the fact that he was being followed. He continued without slowing, listening for his pursuer. Whoever was following him wasn't doing a very good job of remaining silent. Smiling grimly, he disappeared into the thick foliage that surrounded him, hurried onwards for a couple of minutes and then stopped to wait.  
  
Five minutes later, he was rewarded by the sound of heavy breathing and an awful lot of swearing. Remus rolled his eyes. This tracker was awful.  
  
His heart leapt abruptly as he caught sight of a wand gleaming in the moonlight. *I have to get that wand.* He waited until the short man had huffed and puffed his way past him before drawing a small belt knife and leaping out onto the clueless follower.  
  
As he landed, he made a swift slash at the back of the man's robes. Not to kill or even maim, simply to distract him enough so that Remus could have a decent chance at nicking his wand. The man cried out and stumbled forwards before turning to face his attacker with his wand pointed directly at Remus' chest.  
  
Alarm bells rang in his mind as he saw the man turning and he shifted his knife into an attacking position. A knife was no match against a wand, but it was better than nothing. He needed that wand.  
  
The man recoiled at the sight of the knife and followed the blade upwards to his attacker's eyes whilst Remus did the same.  
  
It was hard to tell who was the most surprised. Whilst the pursuer had known who he was tracking, it surprised him that his quarry had suddenly appeared behind him.  
  
The quarry was struck by the same state of disbelief. He had expected a Death Eater but not this one! Remus found himself looking into the eyes of the man that Harry had prevented him from killing a year and a half ago.  
  
Remus Lupin looked directly into the eyes of Peter Pettigrew and Peter Pettigrew stared back. Then, very swiftly, the shorter man raised his wand and uttered a single word:  
  
"Crucio!"  
  
A/N Hee, hee. Another cliffie. Don't I just keep you hanging on? Ah, these cliffies... they just seem to spring up left, right and centre. But I have been making an effort to stop them recently. I just couldn't resist this time...  
  
I think I'm gonna annoy you and keep the meeting with Firenze for a later chapter. A much later chapter. Maybe I'll throw in another quidditch match to make up for it...  
  
Hugs go to all the reviewers of chapter 9:  
  
Bob-(again) glad you still like it, keep on reviewing.  
  
jona-I've read Quidditch through the Ages too... I should probably go and get a life. Maybe I'll catch one on my brand new broom...and get off your butt and write more of Auriellis. It's great and you haven't done anything since November!!!!!!  
  
butterflygirl- thanks again but could you stop with the threats please. And yes I know I got it from that fic, but I don't care cos it was cool. (for anyone who doesn't understand-most likely everyone-butterflygirl is a friend from school and that was...well let's call it a thing between friends).  
  
Hyper Princess- thanks yet again. Maybe you should read the next chapter when you have more time. I don't want to make you late for that ever elusive bus...grins evilly  
  
Starlight-I've only just realised that you're keeping with me. Sorry! Please come again...  
  
chocchip-glad you like it!  
  
Please leave a message at the door before you go. points to review button It only takes a few seconds (depending on how much you want to say).  
  
Luv ya all  
  
Luv baasheep  
  
Xx  
  
I know I've already done this but I missed a couple out so I'm doing it again.  
  
Disclaimer- I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters or places (nope not even the giant spiders). They all belong to the wonderful J.K Rowling and are copyrighted to her, Bloomsbury, Scholastic, Warner Bros., Raincoast and any other party I don't know of.  
  
Seeing as all you'd get if you sued me is a bunch of work there's really no point. Hey, I'm fourteen, I don't have any money and the only decent thing I can do is write and you're not going to get that either! 


	11. Choosing between what is right and what ...

A/N OMG! I am so sorry for keeping this so long…so sorry. Please forgive me. I'll try never to let it happen again. DEATH TO HOMEWORK! DEATH TO PROJECTS! DEATH TO TESTS! Well, this chapter's longer to make up for the wait so please enjoy and don't forget to leave a review (however short).  
  
Bob-hope this answers your question as to where Christmas went…yeah sorry about that slip up.  
  
  
  
Harry was awoken the next morning by a large pillow that had been thrown at him by Ron.  
  
"Come on, presents!" Ron bounced around the room, having seemingly forgotten the prank of last night. Harry watched the bouncing boy with interest and secretly wondered whether Fred and George had slipped him another "chocolate frog".  
  
"Come *on*!" Another pillow assaulted him. Harry sighed theatrically and climbed out of bed. He gathered his small pile of presents and went downstairs to open them under the tree. Ron came behind him bouncing happily and eventually overtook Harry.  
  
A moment later, Harry was infinitely grateful that Ron was in front because, as soon as he stepped into the common room, a large bucket of green goo emptied itself over his head. Ron dropped his presents and stood silently for a while dripping goo. Finally, he took a deep breath…  
  
"FRED, GEORGE! YOU WAIT TILL I GET YOU...!"  
  
Fred and George appeared laughing hysterically and Hermione and Ginny were giggling furiously. Ron let out a wounded bellow and charged. Chaos ensued. Ron chased Fred and George around the common room trailing goo and spraying everyone else. After a few minutes, Fred tripped over a carefully placed wire near the portrait hole and went tumbling through, pulling George and Ron with him and covering the Fat Lady in green goo in the process. The Fat Lady let out an ear-piercing shriek, causing Mrs Norris, who was passing by, to jump into Ron's arms in fright and then claw her way out. Seconds later, Filch skidded around the corner, livid with anger, and advanced upon Ron to retrieve his sorry-looking cat only to slip on the goo, bang into the wall and fall flat on his nose. Ron let go of Mrs Norris who promptly hurtled off down the corridor and the Gryffindors hastily climbed back through the portrait hole to avoid Filch's lecture and the suspicious- looking bottle of ink that was quickly making its way towards them supported by several mischievous fairies.  
  
They clambered through and hastily shut the portrait to various raised voices ("Bloody fairies, I'm going to exterminate the whole lot of them…", "My dress Violet! Those Gryffindor's ruined my dress!"). The entire common room collapsed into laughter as a very bleary eyed Tony stumbled in, took one look at the mess, groaned and went back to bed.  
  
After Ron had calmed down and managed to clean himself off, they sat down under the tree to unwrap their presents. As always, Harry received the customary Weasley jumper. He grinned and slipped it on, turning to Hermione's present which turned out to be a box of chocolate frogs. Ron had also gotten him sweets, although Harry didn't recognize many of them. Fred and George also sent him a box of sweets but Harry decided to try them out on Mrs Norris before he ate any himself. The appearance of a Canary Cream confirmed his suspicions. Neville, it seemed, wasn't quite so careful seeing as he burst into feathers a couple of minutes later.  
  
They spent a pleasant hour eating sweets and talking and even, on occasion, turning into yellow feathered canaries or fluffy pink elephants which sent Fred and George off into peals of laughter. By lunch time they were brave enough to venture outside again. They were very relieved when they discovered that Filch and Mrs Norris had long since departed although the scene was still covered in goo and ink.  
  
Christmas dinner was, as always, excellent and the House-elves had outdone themselves. Harry and the other Gryffindors sat down at the table with the teachers and began to dig in. Half way through the meal, Professor Trelawney sauntered in and sat down silently. The whole table waited expectantly for an explanation but, when none seemed forthcoming, they soon returned to the business of eating and chattering.  
  
Fred pushed his silly hat, which resembled an armadillo, off his eyes and read off the joke. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"  
  
George snorted and put on a false posh voice. "Elementary my dear Watson! The elegant fowl was on a migratory route southwards and evidently, the road lay in its way."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes. "You've been reading far too many of those Sherbet Home books George!"  
  
"It's Sherlock Holmes Ron and don't you dare diss it!"  
  
Ron gave an exasperated sigh. "I wouldn't dream of it my dear man…besides, chickens don't migrate."  
  
George frowned. "So why would the chicken cross the road? And how would you know what chickens do? You're starting to sound like Hermione! Next thing you'll be spewing us…"  
  
Fred checked his paper and read the punch line. "To get to the other side! Um…that doesn't seem quite right. Trust muggles to come up with such a lame punch line!"  
  
"Why would it want to get to the other side? I mean, it's not as if there's a cockerel there is it? And the chicken can't read the road signs to know where to cross safely."  
  
"At a zebra crossing?"  
  
By now, the teachers were listening with a mixture of amusement and, in the case of the less muggle-orientated professors, confusement.  
  
"Why would a zebra want to cross the road?"  
  
"To get to the other side of course!"  
  
"No that's the chicken. The zebra's taking the chicken over."  
  
"What's the point in that?"  
  
"Well it's a zebra crossing. Maybe the zebra was migrating…"  
  
Fred thought for a bit and then nodded, returning to his dinner. George grinned: they had successfully managed to baffle every teacher at the table except Trelawney who had, no doubt, seen the entire conversation earlier in her inner eye, and Snape who was frowning disapprovingly. Even Dumbledore looked a little confused and distant, as if still trying to patch the conversation together in his mind.  
  
The Gryffindors got up from the table hiding grins and practically fled the hall to avoid the strange looks they were getting. As they were making their way back to the tower, Harry glanced out of the window.  
  
"Hey, it's snowing!"  
  
Identical evil grins spread across the Weasley twins' faces.  
  
"You know what this means!"  
  
"Snow war!"  
  
Half an hour later, Harry lay in a hastily carved trench, clutching a newly made snowball whilst trying to avoid the barrage coming from the direction of Fred, George, Tony and Ron. Neville stood up to throw another missile only to be rewarded with a loud squelching sound and a wet face. Harry started to laugh but was cut off abruptly due to the large snowball that had inexplicably found its way into his mouth. Puzzled, he glanced up…and saw Ron wearing an innocent smile. Harry grinned, then pounced.  
  
The result was, for the second time that day, complete an utter chaos. It took another twenty minutes for the teams to work out one snowman from another and until then, Harry and Ron were subjected to peltings from both sides. After another ten minutes, they gave up and trudged back to the tower trailing melting snow and lurking in the shadows should an unhappy Filch find them.  
  
By the time Harry had changed into dry clothes and managed to tame his hair to a small degree, the sky outside was dark. Harry surrounded himself with his presents and lay back into the armchair, smiling as he watched Ron lose yet another game of Gobstones to Neville. Finally, the heat of the fire got to him and his eyes began to droop. Soon, he felt the warm embrace of dreamless sleep.  
  
But it wasn't dreamless for long.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry found himself in a landscape he had never seen before. The wind sobbed through the trees, causing them to sway and throw shadows onto the moonlit ground. Harry looked around in confusion. Where was he? What was he doing here?  
  
The crack of a twig caused him to whirl around, panicking. Harry stood and stared. Resting lightly on the branch of a gnarled oak tree, wings spread wide, was Fawkes. The swan-size phoenix turned to regard him with a single pearly eye. Harry watched in silence. *What the hell is going on here?*  
  
The phoenix rose and flexed its wings, still watching him carefully. Harry watched, slightly awed, as the phoenix rose gracefully and raised its head to the night. Fawkes let out a long, clear pure note and then, inexplicably, vanished leaving behind a single red-gold feather.  
  
Harry stared incredulously at the spot from which Fawkes had vanished. The wind died to a breeze and blew his hair awry. Harry shook himself out of his daze and pushed his glasses back up his nose. Had Fawkes really been there or was he starting to hallucinate? Cautiously, he reached out to one of the trees. It felt horrifyingly solid.  
  
*This is a dream, it has to be. Otherwise, how did I get here?* But there was an element of doubt. Since when had he been able to *feel*things in a dream? Harry thought back to Fawkes. The bird had not seemed to be under any control or false misconceptions. So what was going on with this Order thing? He was certain, also, that Fawkes did not mean to harm him in any way. *So what is going on?*  
  
Harry sighed and shivered as the cold night air finally penetrated his clothing. He sighed and bent down. Without thinking, he reached out and caught the floating feather inches from the ground. The world heaved and the colours blurred. Shapes became distant and indistinct. The wind picked up and hurled him forwards into the darkness. Harry had a sensation of falling before the world blackened and he lost his senses.  
  
* * *  
  
Remus saw the wand coming up an instant before the curse was fired.  
  
"Crucio!"  
  
He ducked and the spell shot past him, causing a tree to blow up. Peter snarled and muttered something incomprehensible. A jet of black light shot past Remus as he hurriedly rolled out of the way. *What the hell was that?*  
  
"Crucio!"  
  
The spell came again and this time he wasn't fast enough. The curse hit him in the chest and he doubled over in pain desperately trying not to cry out. Through the haze, he could see Peter laughing at him. Rage, pure and potent, welled up inside him. Here was the man who had killed Lily and James, two of his best friends. Here was the reason Harry had no parents, the reason the boy had to shoulder such a large burden. Here was the reason Sirius, an innocent man, had spent a decade in Azkaban and was now on the run.  
  
Here was the reason Voldemort was back.  
  
He could sense that it was going to happen before it did. He knew he should try and stop it, but the logical part of his brain was swamped with thoughts of hatred and revenge. He shuddered as he felt the first convulsion run through him, racking his bones.  
  
The Cruciatis curse ended abruptly and Remus could see Peter's confused face. He started to morph.  
  
The sudden comprehension on Peter's face, mixed with fear and disgust would have been humorous under other circumstances. Peter glanced up at the sky to see the full moon hanging in the sky. He stared in horror Remus' pain- racked body and realised he was transforming. Peter' eyes widened and his wand slipped from his fingers as he backed away. He knew all to well what was happening; it had happened many times before.  
  
The arms and legs twisted, bones crunching sickeningly in the night. Hair sprouted all over the body as the face lengthened. The eyes glazed over, taking on a hint of gold and a feral look gleamed menacingly. Low growls penetrated the soft silence of the night, coupled with Wormtail's whimpers of fear and rummaging as he desperately tried to locate the wand he had dropped.  
  
Wormtail looked up from the ground, teary eyed and found himself staring into the snarling face of a huge shaggy grey wolf. The wolf bared its teeth and growled, beginning to advance upon him. Wormtail hurriedly backed away and looked for his wand one last time before fleeing. Just his luck! The one thing that could have broken through the wolfsbane shielding was raw emotion. Wormtail sobbed as he ran. Hatred, everything boiled down to hatred when it came to him. His once friends hated him for what he had done to Lily and James. Harry hated him for killing his parents. And Voldemort loathed him for his cowardice.  
  
And now, Wormtail had no one left to run to.  
  
Behind him, the shrill howl of a hunting wolf cut the air.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry had no idea how long he had been falling, nor any comprehension of which way was up and which was done so he was immensely relieved when something solid came up to meet him. The relief was short lived, however, as he slammed into it, knocking the wind out of him.  
  
Harry groaned and rubbed his aching side. After a moment's investigation, he discovered that he no longer possessed a wand. He reached up to try and repair his mangled glasses. The world slowly slipped back into focus and he groaned at what he saw.  
  
He was in a wide, tall room. Torches hung at intervals along the walls, casting eerie shadows across the floor. The walls themselves were carved with strange patterns depicting nothing that he could understand. At the far end of the room stood a massive statue of a snake poised to strike, mouth open wide and fangs bared. The eyes gleamed ruby red in the flickering light.  
  
Harry's attention, however, and long since wandered from that to the scene that confronted him or, for want of better words, surrounded him. A crowd of robed figures encircled him and what looked like a bundle of rags on the floor. His eyes briefly flickered over them and finally came to rest on the smiling visage of Voldemort who sat enthroned in the middle of the circle.  
  
Harry sighed and stood up shakily. This had to be a dream, there was no other explanation. If Voldemort was near enough to kidnap him, his scar would have hurt horrendously.  
  
Voldemort smirked at the trembling frame of the teenager before him. He was human after all. He indicated the room. "Welcome, Mr Potter, to my humble abode!"  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow. *This* was humble? His brief glance took in the ornately carved walls, the spiralling pillars and the immense statue. He said nothing and stared at the snake-like man defiantly. He wasn't sure he trusted his voice right now.  
  
Voldemort's smirk faded a little as the boy remained stonily silent. He would have to learn. Voldemort levered himself gracefully from the throne and descended the carved steps slowly until he was face to face with the boy. He frowned slightly. The boy had grown a little over the summer and could almost look him in the eyes. "Must you be taught obedience Potter or will you comply?"  
  
Harry made no move and no sound; he simply glared at Voldemort and, much to his surprise not to mention the surprise of the Death Eaters, the red eyes lowered, breaking the gaze first. Voldemort sighed theatrically.  
  
"Very well, have it your way...Crabbe, Goyle." Two Death Eaters stepped forward. "Bring in the *examples*." A tiny smile that chilled Harry to the bone flickered across his face. Voldemort once again turned to Harry. "Tonight Harry," he gestured grandly, "you will make a choice. How did your precious old fool put it? "You must choose between what is right and what is easy." Tonight Harry, I will let you make that choice." Harry didn't like the moronic gleam in Voldemort's eyes. "Our link grows stronger by the day and soon I will control the Order and we will meet face to face. Then I will have the infinite pleasure of…torturing you in the worst way I know how." The Death Eaters shifted in excitement and Nagini's hissing rose to a climax. "But until then I must be content with torturing you in your dreams."  
  
Voldemort finished his somewhat disturbing speech and Harry was careful to not let any emotions show on his face. A loud bang that echoed noisily announced the return of the two Death Eaters who were dragging behind them two kicking and screaming figures.  
  
As they were dragged nearer, Harry could see that they were a young couple. Once inside the circle, the woman let out a shriek and tried to run towards the rags in the centre whilst the man struggled furiously.  
  
"Sarah, Sarah! No, no NO!"  
  
Voldemort's high chilling laugh stopped the noise as the couple slowly realised who they were facing. Harry, feeling suddenly sickened, inspected the rags more carefully. He groaned inwardly as he saw a pale limp hand and a shock of red hair. It was unmistakably a young girl. And a very unconscious young girl. Harry boiled with rage.  
  
"Is this your sick idea of a game Voldemort? Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" He instantly regretted his words but, however much he would like to, he couldn't take them back. The man and woman flinched at both the sudden outburst and the name. The man watched him curiously and with an appraising look. His eyes travelled upwards slowly to rest on his scar where they widened with comprehension.  
  
Voldemort snarled. "You are here to be taught a lesson Potter and you will do as I say! Never answer back! Crucio!"  
  
Harry had no warning other than the word and, as he had no defence, he doubled over in agony. He bit off a scream: he wasn't going to give that scum the satisfaction of knowing how much this hurt. The curse was ended after a short time but it seemed like an age to Harry. Slowly, he stood up and managed to keep himself from trembling too badly. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the shocked and concerned faces of the couple.  
  
Voldemort smiled like a satisfied cat and turned to the man. "The first example." He raised his wand and the man desperately tried to twist out of the way.  
  
"Incendio!"  
  
A blast of hot fire shot out of the end of the wand and barrelled into the man. There was a brief pause, and then the most haunting and pain-riddled screams Harry had ever heard sounded throughout the room. The man stumbled upright, flames licking at his robes and his flesh. He turned sightless bloody eyes to Harry who shivered. The woman was screaming and sobbing hysterically.  
  
Harry felt sick and he had to fight hard to keep his food down. Voldemort was watching him carefully. Almost lazily, he flicked his wand again.  
  
"Pyrontum."  
  
The man's flesh started to dissolve and in seconds, he was reduced to a pile of ash leaving behind him a blood-curdling scream. The wife watched the spot incredulously and then started screaming.  
  
Voldemort trained his wand on her. "And now, the second example." Her eyes widened with fear and disbelief. Harry shook his head. How could he just stand there doing nothing? He started to run forwards but one of the Death Eaters pointed a wand and snarled. "Petrificus," and he was rooted to the spot.  
  
The woman's eyes widened and she tried desperately to make a run for it.  
  
"Avada Kedavra."  
  
There was a rushing sound and a flash of green light. The woman was dead before she reached the floor. Harry gulped. Images flashed through his mind…the same flashes of light. "No, not Harry, please not Harry," "Stand aside you silly girl!" A bright green light and then darkness. "Kill the spare," "Avada Kedavra." A thud and a spread-eagled body…. Harry shook his head clear and forced himself to look into the blood-red eyes. Voldemort's eyes widened almost imperceptibly but Harry saw it and, somehow, managed to draw strength from it.  
  
Voldemort gestured to the small girl. "And now your choice. Will it be the first example or the second?"  
  
Harry's heart skipped a beat and his stomach plummeted. *No* he screamed silently. *He can't make me do this!*  
  
"I assure you Harry, that if you say nothing I will torture her in the most painful way I know before she dies. She *will* die.  
  
"Saying nothing is easy, but is it right? Your choice…" He smiled evilly.  
  
Harry glanced uncertainly at Voldemort. Would he really do that? *Of course he would you idiot! It's what he does!"* Harry felt tears welling up in his eyes and bile rising in his throat.  
  
"Enervate." The young girl's eyes flickered open and gazed fearfully at Voldemort. "Mr Potter here was about to decide your fate." Her eyes flicked to Harry, upwards to his scar, widened in fear and astonishment and then travelled back to Voldemort.  
  
Voldemort turned to Harry. "So Potter which will it be?"  
  
Harry glanced again at the girl whose eyes remained firmly fixed on the Dark Lord. His mind was in turmoil. He didn't want to play this sick game and yet, if he didn't, she would be tortured painfully. She was going to die and Harry could see that she knew it. Amazingly, she didn't seem at all scared. Certainly, a short quick death was the best choice for her. He didn't want her in pain but he could he bring himself to order her death?  
  
Voldemort's smirk faded slightly. It looked as if the boy wasn't going to play. He would have to be taught another lesson. But just as Voldemort was about to curse him, the boy looked directly at Voldemort, resignation and disgust written all over his face. The whisper was barely detectable but Voldemort heard it.  
  
"Avada Kedavra…" Harry sighed and looked apologetically at the girl. She met his eyes in understanding.  
  
There was a flash of green light, a soft thud, a cruel high laugh and then blackness…  
  
* * *  
  
When Ron woke up in the morning, he padded across to Harry to wake him up. He was, to say the least, astonished when he saw silent tears running down his best friend's face. Ron stared for a moment and then caught sight of something. He swore softly and ran out of the common room in search of a teacher. What he had seen had almost been enough to give him a heart attack because he knew for a fact that it had never happened before to anyone. The lightning bolt scar which Harry had had almost all his life, had split open and was now glowing green, weeping crimson blood…  
  
And only a few miles away, a chalk-white man rose from his throne and surveyed the three bodies that littered the floor. A tiny smile curled his lips. It had begun…and Harry Potter was as good as his…  
  
  
  
A/N Hee hee, another cliffie, even if it isn't as bad as the last but it's still quite freaky.  
  
I know I said no more violence…but well…Moldywarts just went off and did his own thing…sorry  
  
Okay, coming up next…Lupin arrives and maybe a quidditch match.  
  
Thanks to all reviewers:  
  
Bob (again)  
  
Kerry- hey you're back, yay!  
  
jona- thanks and keep going with DoR, Shaping the Future and especially Auriellis *stupid grin*  
  
moodyirishbabe- glad you thought it was funny. Keep writing, it's good and I will get round to reviewing it again…  
  
Sailor Vegeta- well here's what happened to Lupin!  
  
Bwaye-you need to get over the fixation with calling it mouse cos its mousse. There's a very subtle difference…go look them up in a dictionary!  
  
draicana- hope you feel better and I'm glad you think it's good.  
  
Lizzy Black- no need to hurt me…I'm still writing *backs away nervously*oh and thanks for the story recommendations.  
  
Ashie- glad you like it. Keep updating yours.  
  
Gia- Peter is mean isn't he?  
  
wapi/esmerelda-well here's more!  
  
Hyper Pricess- thanks and sorry for the wait  
  
elf_kitty- I think you may have slightly lost the plot…  
  
Starlight-you're back again, yay!  
  
I'd like to say again how profoundly sorry I am for taking this long to update. I made it extra long to make up though!  
  
Please don't flame me about that choice thing…  
  
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REVIEW!!!!  
  
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Thanks  
  
luv baasheep  
  
xx  
  
If anyone wants to know when I update, let me know and I'll give you a shout 


	12. Poison

A/N First things first. I need to apologise for taking so long at updating. Let's just say I've had a few projects and leave it at that *ducks flying tomatoes*. Uh-huh  
  
But first I need to yell at someone…  
  
Esmeralda: ELF_KITTY HAD LOST THE PLOT AND SHE CONFESSED TO IT SO DON'T YOU DARE GO ACCUSING ME!! *TAKES DEEP BREATH* AS FOR EMMSIE-WEMSY…YOU AND YOUR INFURIATINGLY ANNOYING FRIEND NAMED AMY HADN'T STARTED CALLING ME THAT AT THE POINT WHEN I WROTE THE BIO. IF ANYONE BESIDES KATIE HERE IS READING THIS DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME SAID NAME OR I'll RAM MY **** SO FAR UP YOUR **** YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO WALK FOR WEEKS (sorry folks. Had to be said, she's hit a soft spot of mine here, sorry if I offended any little kids). AS FOR QUATRE BEING YOURS….!!!&^"$£^%(&^!!*£&!£ HE IS MOST ASSUREDLY MINE AND I'M SURE K@ WILL HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY ABOUT MR MAXWELL. IF YOU LAY A SINGLE FINGER ON Q-CHAN I'LL EAT YOU ALIVE AND REGURGITATE YOU INTO SOME FOREIGN QUAGMIRE. AS FOR HEERO, GRANTED HE'S A GOOD BODYGUARD BUT FRANKLY I THINK HE'S GONNA BE MORE INTERESTED IN RELENA *DANGLES RELENA FROM PIECE OF STRING IN HEERO'S FACE AND THROWS AWAY* "GO FETCH. GOOD HEERO" HA, WHERE'S YOUR OH-SO-GOOD BODY GUARD NOW HMMM? SO, I'LL TAKE Q-CHAN BACK *SNATCHES QUATRE FROM KATIE* AND IF YOU REALLY HATE ME SO MUCH YOU CAN GO SOMEPLACE AND SULK COS I WON'T TALK TO YOU AGAIN UNLESS YOU APOLOGISE.  
  
Now that that's over with….on with the story. Again, I'm really sorry for how long this took….  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry woke to darkness and a dull throbbing in his scar. Wincing at the pain, he opened his eyes, gasping at the pain of such a trivial action. The room was dark and, judging by the lack of noise and light, it was night. The pain in his scar increased abruptly and he instinctively reached out to rub it.  
  
A firm yet gentle hand stopped him and Harry twisted around to squint at the blurred image of Professor Dumbledore. "I shouldn't touch it Harry. It's still tender."  
  
Harry frowned and peered quizzically at the Headmaster. The Professor gave a slight smile before reaching over and handing Harry his glasses. Harry fumbled them on and looked again at his Headmaster. The sight that met his eyes was not a particularly welcome one.  
  
Frown lines marked the old man's face. Similarly, there were stress lines that, although present at the end of last year, had never been as pronounced as now. The skin was paler and tauter than was usual but Harry noticed, with a large amount of relief, that the twinkle had not left the blue eyes.  
  
Harry dragged his eyes away from his teacher to rake them over the room to reassess his earlier thoughts. It was definitely dark and now he could see the clock, he knew it was well past midnight. He was confused.  
  
"Um….Professor? What happened?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "We're not quite sure. Mr Weasley found you in the common room this morning with what appeared to be a large amount of blood coming from your scar. The scar itself was glowing. We brought you up here as soon as Mr Weasley informed us of your condition but nothing seemed to wake you up. As to what caused the scar to split and bleed, we were hoping you could provide us with that information." He finished by fixing Harry with a piercing gaze that seemed to impale him on the bed.  
  
Harry thought back to what had happened after he had fallen asleep and, once he had located the memory, he immediately wanted to lose it again, to forget what he had done. He felt tears stinging his eyes and he shut them tight hoping to bottle his emotions away. But the image of the small girl invaded the darkness of his tightly shut eyes and, with a choked sob, he rolled over and curled up into the foetal position, tears falling silently.  
  
After a moment, he felt warm arms encircle him and hug him tightly. Rather than appeasing his grief, the action amplified it and he burst into loud abrupt sobs. The arms held him tighter and began to rock him slowly. Harry leaned gratefully into the embrace and took deep shuddering breaths.  
  
After a while, Dumbledore spoke but he didn't release his hold on Harry. "It was Voldemort wasn't it?" he asked softly. "In your dreams."  
  
It was more of a statement than a question but still one that needed to be answered. Harry slowly opened his eyes and, to his mortification, found himself curled in Dumbledore's arms, tears trickling down his face and, he noticed guiltily, down the Professor's robes too. Harry carefully tried to extricate himself from the teacher's arms but they only held him tighter until, eventually, he looked wearily at the Headmaster's face. The eyes had lost the familiar twinkle but they still shone with concern and sympathy. Harry dropped his gaze.  
  
"Harry, I need to know…"  
  
Harry nodded and brushed another tear away before proceeding to answer. He told Dumbledore everything, relating the strange appearance of Fawkes, the unknown room, how Voldemort had killed first the man, then the woman…His voice, which had not quavered once so far in the telling, broke as he told Dumbledore of the choice he had been forced to make. All the while, Dumbledore listened in silence and didn't move save to pull the boy even closer.  
  
When Harry had finished, he stared at the floor which had suddenly acquired a very interesting piece of fluff. He didn't want to see the look in Dumbledore's eyes, to see the disappointment he knew would be there. The piece of fluff was fascinating, the blue of the colour, the way the dim light from the single lamp reflected on the ridges and valleys…  
  
"…lie to you Harry. The McClouds were found dead this morning. John had suffered major burns and lacerations to the chest and face, Sarah and Claire by the killing curse."  
  
Harry remained silent and Dumbledore could tell by the blank look in his eyes that he was beginning to shut himself away from the world. For some insane reason, the thought of Harry living in a shell terrified him even more than what he had heard a few moments ago.  
  
Beginning to panic ever so slightly, Dumbledore tipped Harry's head up and forced the dulling eyes to look into his own. He spoke quickly and fervently. "You made the right choice Harry. Many would have said nothing in the same situation. It takes great courage and strength to do what you did and I admire you for it. Trust me, you made the right choice. I'm sure John and Claire would have agreed with me."  
  
Dumbledore watched anxiously and sighed with relief when the colour seeped back into Harry's eyes. Harry blinked a few times and tried to focus on the Headmaster. Tears threatened to well but he refused to let then fall. Instead he just buried himself into Dumbledore's with a soft sigh. Dumbledore held him a while longer until he felt the insistent trembling cease and the breathing even out.  
  
Gently, so as not to wake Harry, Dumbledore lowered him onto the bed. He took off Harry's glasses and placed them on the bedside table. Dumbledore sat for several minutes and watched Harry's restless sleep. He sighed heavily and leaned over to tuck the bed sheets more tightly around the slumbering form. Harry's movements instantly lessened but the small frown on his face remained.  
  
There was a soft 'whooshing' sound and then a warm weight alighted on Dumbledore's shoulder. Dumbledore stroked Fawkes' head lovingly and sighed, looking once more at Harry. Fawkes cocked his head slightly as if demanding an explanation.  
  
"I worry for him Fawkes," he whispered so as to prevent Harry from stirring. "He carries so much on his shoulders: the hopes of the wizarding world and, although they don't realise it themselves, the muggle world too. When Voldemort and his Death Eaters come rising, the world looks to Harry…" he paused and glance at Harry. "And to be fair, he is a wonderful wizard, strong and compassionate despite all his young life has thrown at him. Yet I see the child in him also. He is confused and scared as well as brave and knowledgeable. A strange combination and one that I have only seen once before, in Tom Riddle," he sighed and hung his head. "Harry is strong but there is only so much any one person can take. I won't always be here for him as I was tonight. He needs someone…he needs Sirius."  
  
Dumbledore turned suddenly to the phoenix. "Fawkes, find Sirius and bring him here. Take Elandar if you must but find Sirius and bring him here."  
  
Fawkes crooned softly, then flexed his wings and took off through the now open window.  
  
Dumbledore turned to Harry, relieved to see that the boy's features were now relaxed and whatever had been troubling him earlier was now gone. Silently he swept from the room. It was time to see what had kept a certain werewolf so long…  
  
In the soft darkness of the Infirmary a single piece of blue fluff floated up on the currents created by the wizard's departure. Slowly, it eddied around until, eventually, it left through the window, the only reminder to how close Harry had come to giving up tonight.  
  
* * *  
  
Sirius ceased his headlong dash and crouched down behind a bush breathing heavily. *Where is that git?* A sharp keening wail pierced the air and Sirius froze, listening carefully. There was silence and then a distant sound of crunching undergrowth. Sirius took a deep shuddering breath and then ran in the opposite direction to the noise.  
  
Sirius caught a brief glimpse of an acromantula in a small clearing only yards away. He veered off course and dashed in the other direction. There was a brief bellow of fury and then the sound of an enraged creature stampeding towards him. Sirius groaned inwardly and quickly switched direction again, wincing heavily as he heard the sound of the acromantula impaling a tree that, had he been a split second slower, could have been him. Deciding not to wait any longer, Sirius threw himself into the undergrowth. *Snape'll have to find his own way out of this mess!*  
  
A moment later another acromantula arrived on the scene to find a very confused comrade who was slobbering inanely and staring at a piece of ground that was covered with dark red blood. A group of Death Eater's approached cautiously, eyeing the deadly pieces warily.  
  
"Where is Black?"  
  
The pincers clicked rapidly but they still managed to sort out the words spoken. "Gone. Scent disappeared. Bit him though."  
  
The Death Eater grimaced and turned away. Acromantula saliva, he knew, could be a very painful poison if not treated almost immediately. Black was going to have a rough night. "All right, forget about Black," he said turning to the other Death Eaters. "Black's got past the animagus wards but he won't live long. Bring the other one and we'll take him to the Master. He will be very pleased to learn of the traitor. Inform the spy of this latest development. And tell him to hold off Trelawney's murder. Dumbledore will start to suspect. MOVE!"  
  
The Death Eaters disapparated hurriedly. The remaining four turned to a solitary figure huddled on the floor. "Take him to the dungeons. I'm sure the Master will want to 'question' him," he sneered at the figure and turned away.  
  
Severus Snape watched the retreating back in dismay. *What am I supposed to do now?* He hoped that Black had had the sense to return to Hogwarts and stay well away from this mess. *Not that he had any sense to start with!* Snape shook his head and rid himself of that last thought. Although Black could be infuriatingly annoying at times, he had to admit, however grudgingly, that he was intelligent and, dare he say it? Admirable….he shuddered. Nope. Definitely didn't like the sound of that word. It must have been the knock to the head. Yes, that was it…the knock to the head…  
  
Behind the group and slightly to the right, a shaggy black dog watched the procession before turning and running off into the night. *There's nothing I can do now. I have to get to Hogwarts…* Sirius padded into the forest already hampered by the slight stiffening of limbs that was the first symptom of poisoning.  
  
* * *  
  
Albus Dumbledore sighed and looked up from the documents littering the desk to gaze at the full moon. *Where are you Remus? Why can't I contact you?* Slowly, he turned back to his papers and looked through them again. They were police records of all the deaths in strange circumstances within the past five months, since Voldemort's rising. Although the muggles didn't have a clue, Dumbledore knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that they were a sure sign of Death Eater activity. Which meant that Voldemort was regaining the sort of strength he had had fourteen years ago.  
  
Voldemort. Even now Dumbledore found it hard to believe that Tom Riddle, model student and prefect had become the most feared Dark Wizard in recent history. Even during the reign of Grindelwald, people had not been as scared as they were now. And Dumbledore knew that Voldemort was far stronger than Grindelwald had ever dreamed of being.  
  
Dumbledore sifted through more papers. He had defeated Grindelwald, but he had been younger and Grindelwald careless. Tom on the other hand, was the perfect Slytherin. Shrewd, persistent, intelligent, dark and incredibly powerful, especially now that he had Harry's blood in his veins.  
  
Dumbledore smiled. Harry and Tom had so much in common. Both strong willed, stubborn, smart…and both despised the other. Dumbledore's smile turned into a frown. It was unfair to ask Harry to shoulder such a burden. He knew, undoubtedly that Harry would, no questions asked but that still didn't make it acceptable. Dumbledore knew, however, that another encounter between the two would be inevitable. Voldemort wanted Harry dead and Harry simply had the knack of tumbling headlong into trouble which invariably involved Voldemort in one way or another.  
  
Dumbledore seethed at the events that had been thrown at Harry throughout his young life but somehow, incredibly, Harry had ploughed through one and all to come out virtually unscathed at the end. But he knew that this time Voldemort had gone too far. Add to that the lies spread about his 'mental health' by the Minister and the constant attention to every tiny move he made, and Dumbledore may well have another breakdown similar to tonight's on his hands.  
  
Dumbledore wasn't afraid to admit how much Harry's reaction tonight had shaken him and he was determined it wouldn't happen again. Which was precisely why he was trying to find Remus…and to no effect. Remus simply seemed to have vanished like a puff of smoke for the past three months.  
  
He was startled when the door burst open, almost being ripped off its hinges, and said puff of smoke bounded into the room. Albus blinked rapidly and frowned.  
  
"Remus? What…." He was cut off as Remus pulled something from his pocket and thrust it under his nose.  
  
Albus blinked again and looked at the proffered hand. Dangling from Remus' clenched fist hung a scruffy, struggling and biting grey rat…  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N Wow, these cliffies come really naturally to me…*evil grin*.  
  
So…is that Peter I hear you cry? Well….you'll have to wait until next chapter to find out. And Sirius is once again in mortal peril….aren't I nice?  
  
Next chapter, expect plenty of swinging rats around by the tail (figuratively speaking), more of that Order stuff and loads of Moony. I can also exclusively reveal that the meeting with Firenze *will* be soon. And the spy in Hogwarts will be revealed shortly thereafter.  
  
I think I'm about two-thirds through so far but I'm not sure. I've only got the next couple of chapters planned in any detail, only got the bones for the rest of the plot so there may be more but I doubt you'll be complaining too loudly.  
  
Again I'm sorry about the length of time it took me to get this out. I simply haven't had time and probably won't for another few weeks due to coursework and exams humped onto me through till mid June…  
  
I would like to take the time to shamelessly plug my new fic. It's a Gundam Wing fic and, in my opinion, it's going to be really good. If you like GW, go read it and be sure to tell me what you think.  
  
Onto shout outs…  
  
Esmeralda: "…"  
  
Ellie: Thanks, you made y day. Glad you like it!  
  
Jynx Ashley: Wow, thanks. I agree with you there. I do need to check more thoroughly but spell-check doesn't catch everything like when I write hid instead of his.  
  
btterflygirl: No, I didn't forget to mention you. You didn't review chapter 10 so I didn't mention you. And before you argue, as I know you will, go read the reviews for chap 10. You ain't there girl!!!  
  
Starlight: Yeah, I don't like old Moldywarts too much either…  
  
Minna Radcliffe: Thanks, and thanks for reviewing again. Everyone, go and read her fic. It's really good.  
  
Ashie: Thanks, sorry it took so long. Also, thanks for the the b-day present! ^________^  
  
Cool_bytch: thanks, and in answer to your question, they were just examples. Nothing too important (unless my plot muse runs away and leaves me with nothing to go on…)  
  
Sailor Vegeta: Easy, I take a pen and paper and write. That's how I do it to him! (  
  
Draicana: I rock? Wow, cool thanks. And if you want me to email you again don't hesitate to ask.  
  
Nuts: Well here's what' gonna happen…  
  
Gia: Thanks and I know this isn't exactly soon but…hey I did it all right!  
  
Bob: Thanks, hope you review again.  
  
Elf_kitty: please let Esmeralda know that you had indeed lost the plot. For God's sake, you were talking about Draco being out of school and I never once mentioned that! Thank you *bows*.  
  
Hyper Princess: Thank you. For what's gonna happen next see above! (  
  
Hermione Gulliver: Thank you. It's always when someone owns up to reading a fic without actually reviewing. You really made my day. And don't worry, I haven't forgotten! I will get round to reading your fics sometime!  
  
Thank you everyone. Please don't forget to review!  
  
Luv baasheep  
  
xx 


	13. See how they run

I have A/N This will probably be the last update before my exams so after this there won't be anything for…3-5 weeks, depending on how much work my mum makes me do. But rest assured, this fic WILL be finished and I won't forget about it. I may just take a while in updating.  
  
I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Ashie. It's her birthday soon, May 23rd, and I'd like to give her a present like she gave me. I know this is very soon, but I'm taking a maths exam on the 23rd and I'll be lucky if mum lets me breathe let alone go on the computer. Also go read her fics, they're really good.  
  
AND PLEASE READ THE A/N AT THE BOTTOM. I HAVE A QUESTION!!!!!!!!  
  
  
  
Chapter 13  
  
  
  
Harry felt uncharacteristically warm and comfortable. He wanted nothing more right now than to lie here and slip back into sleep. However, the person beside him seemed to have different ideas.  
  
"Harry? Harry, are you awake?"  
  
Harry gave a sigh and slowly peeled his eyes open. He peered into the blur of colours, trying to identify the voice and at the same time fumble for his glasses. He was rather surprised, and glad, when said glasses were handed to him and he was able to glare at the person who had denied him his sleep.  
  
"Professor Lupin!" he gasped. "What-what are you doing here? Are you teaching again?"  
  
Remus Lupin smiled indulgently at the rumpled teenager on the bed and pushed Harry back firmly into the mattress which he had promptly vacated upon discovery of his old teacher. But before he could open his mouth, Harry was bombarding him with more questions…  
  
"Are you staying? Are you all right? Where's Sirius? What's happening-  
  
Remus blinked like an owl caught in bright light, letting everything wash over him before he finally raised a hand to stop the torrent. He smiled at the boy and, finally, spoke. "Please relax Harry. Madame Pomfrey will have my hide if she thinks I've been taxing you. She told me in no uncertain terms that you were to rest…in surprisingly colourful language. Actually I do believe she used several different languages." He allowed himself a grin. "Now, as to those questions of yours. Firstly, please call me Remus. I'm not teaching here anymore. I am, however, staying. That is because I'm going to teach *you*.  
  
"Next, I'll be fine after a good night's rest and some food and no, I don't where Sirius is. Sorry. As to what's going on…I'm afraid I have little more idea than you at this point in time." He finished and watched as Harry sifted through this information and he had to keep himself from smirking insanely as he watched Harry's beaverish mind latch onto the one statement that didn't make complete sense.  
  
Harry frowned. "What do you mean you're teaching me?"  
  
Remus did grin this time. "Just what I said. I'm here to teach you. Not the others, just you."  
  
Harry frowned again. That didn't make much sense. True, he probably needed more protection that most but surely Professor Figg could provide him with that sort of teaching. Then, suddenly, he saw it. Plain as day and so logical that he wondered how he'd even missed it before. "The Order," he said simply.  
  
Remus looked a little surprised at that statement. Almost as if he hadn't expected Harry to come to that conclusion. Slowly, the older man nodded. "Yes. Dumbledore asked me to teach you to deal with it, the link and the like. He also thinks it would be prudent to teach you duelling skills, although I must say yours are far better than most."  
  
Harry beamed at the compliment. It wasn't often he felt good at something, except for Quidditch, but he had enjoyed the duelling lesson in Defence and, in his rather biased opinion, had been quite good at it. And besides…after last night he wasn't going to pass up any opportunity that could help him against Voldemort.  
  
"Your extra training will start as soon as possible and Arabella is going to start teaching your year at a more advanced level than usual. Your year is in a little more danger than usual because Voldemort may try to get at you by getting your friends. The seventh years will need extra tuition too, especially the Slytherins, because they'll be targeted for becoming new Death Eaters."  
  
Remus obviously saw the guilt and self-condemnation on Harry's face at this point because he stopped and sighed. Shifting slightly, he leaned over and engulfed Harry in a sudden spontaneous and awkward embrace. "Don't blame yourself Harry. This would have happened anyway. If he hadn't used you, he would have found another way. This time was bound to come sooner or later. And at least this way he has the weakness of mortality. People respect you Harry, they don't hate or blame you. They're proud of what you've accomplished and follow your example. People aren't as scared this time as they were fourteen years ago because they have you. You who has escaped him and thwarted him more times than many of us would like to count. People look up to you Harry for an example and for hope. Don't deny them that by wrongly blaming yourself."  
  
Harry lay quietly in Remus' arms thinking this over. Did people really look up to him or was it just because of his fame? Did they really follow him for an example? Was he right to blame himself? He *had* been the cause of Cedric's death, of Sarah's death, but it had been Voldemort who had uttered the curse, who had killed them. It had been Voldemort who killed his parents, even if they had died because of trying to protect them. And they had succeeded. Voldemort had been defeated that night. Was it fair to blame Sirius because he had trusted Peter? No! And therefore, the logical part of his mind stated, it was wrong to blame himself for Cedric's and Sarah's deaths, maybe even wrong to blame himself for Voldemort's resurrection. Part of him still wanted to place the guilt squarely on his plate, but this new reasoning forced it to stay away. It *wasn't* his fault. It was *Voldemort's* and Harry was going to make him pay for it, for everything.  
  
And he was going to go about that by learning everything he could. He'd read the entire library if he had to, but he would find what could defeat Voldemort, for good. And along the way, he'd work out all the little nuances that bothered him.  
  
Harry sighed and let sleep claim him, content in the knowledge that others would help him, he wouldn't be alone and that no one really blamed him, that he didn't really blame himself anymore. He had people that cared for him and, although they couldn't always be there, they would do everything in their power to help and protect him. People relied on him so he'd give as good as he got and Voldemort would get what was coming to him. Life, he absently realised, had suddenly got a whole lot brighter.  
  
The still sadistic part of his brain reminded him that, if people really looked up to him, they'd be in a right fix when he managed to get himself killed.  
  
* * *  
  
Sirius gave a low whine of despair before his legs collapsed beneath him and he tumbled to the forest floor. The night was cold, bitter and harsh in its strength yet despite that it soothed him for it helped to alleviate the raging heat of the fever that held him. He shivered helplessly as his unfocused eyes strained to see anything. The coherent part of his mind registered its frustration upon finally seeing his destination sparkling like a lost jewel in the moonlight. Hogwarts. It only lay a couple of miles ahead; he could see it over the edge of the lake. Yet for all its beauty and safety, it could have been light years away and it wouldn't have made any difference. His limbs no longer coordinated with each other and his lungs struggled to take in enough air to simply continue breathing.  
  
Had he come all this way only to die now? Had he ran for hours, sustained only by the hope of seeing his godson, to die now in sight of his goal? Fate, he decided, was obviously on steroids tonight.  
  
And then another image entered his mind, one that he didn't particularly like seeing. One of Snape bound and being tortured by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Sirius didn't exactly love the man but, he had to admit grudgingly, he did owe the man his life…despite the fact he was now losing it. But even more terrifying to see in his mind's eye was the thought of what would happen once Voldemort got to Harry. Harry had no idea of the danger he was in and only Sirius could inform him. Even Dumbledore didn't know which, he thought absently, showed just how damn manipulative and subtle Voldemort could be.  
  
He glanced again in the vague direction of Hogwarts. The moon had gone behind a cloud but, despite that, it still seemed to glisten. He had to get back to Hogwarts, had to…to help Snape and, more importantly, Harry. He…had to …tell Albus how… Voldemort was…linking with…Har…  
  
Sirius dimly cursed himself as his body became numb and his mind began to lose all semblance of sanity. Because he was busy watching the trees walking past, he didn't notice the white candyfloss that settled on his side nor the rain storm that centred only on him. Sirius snuggled deeper into the blankets of his four poster bed and fell into a warm sleep where bell-like choirs sang eternal choruses.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry peered into the glass cage and fought the overwhelming urge to tap it. Beside him, Remus was talking quietly with Professor Dumbledore, occasionally throwing curious looks in Harry's direction. Harry frowned at the contents of the cage feeling as if he'd like to throttle it. To his surprise, the lardy grey rat froze and stared at him with saucer-like eyes before scuttling away and pressing itself as far into the corner as possible.  
  
Harry blinked. He certainly hadn't expected that. After all, he had saved Pettigrew's life once. There was no need for the rat to be *that* scared of him. Maybe he should feed the miserable thing to the adder he had found lurking in the hydrangeas last week. She had certainly seemed hungry enough. The rat gave a high squeak and started running around the cage in tight circles, banging into the glass every now and then.  
  
Remus looked up in surprise. "Good god Harry! What did you do to him? He sat and slept all morning then, when you appear, he loses it!"  
  
Harry shrugged and moved away from the sorry-looking specimen. In hindsight, he supposed that the adder probably wasn't that desperate. He doubted if anything would ever be hungry enough to merit eating *that*.  
  
Harry had woken that morning feeling refreshed and, for the first time in a long while, feeling as if he could take on anything…except maybe Voldemort right now. His first thought of simply laying around in bed all day had been scrapped when Remus barged through the door, told him to dress, meet him in Dumbledore's office in ten minutes, and had promptly hurtled off through the door again leaving Harry to deal with a very irate and flustered Madame Pomfrey.  
  
Ten minutes later a very rumpled Harry was standing outside the gargoyle to Professor Dumbledore's office and having an argument.  
  
"For God's sake. Just let me in! You *know* he wants to see me."  
  
The gargoyle had glared at him, raising its forked eyebrows up its face. "You don't know the password. So, you're NOT COMING IN!"  
  
Harry made an inarticulate sound in his throat and reminded himself to strangle Remus next time he saw him. The man had 'conveniently' forgotten to give him the password and now he was stuck here yelling at a piece of animated stone and flinging random glowers at the smirking statue.  
  
Finally, after several rude comments made by the gargoyle, Harry lost it and rounded on the suddenly surprised gargoyle. "Look here you inane piece of masonry…"  
  
Fortunately, for the gargoyle at any rate, Harry's curse got no further because the gargoyle swung away and Professor Dumbledore stepped out beaming at him.  
  
"Ah, I see you've met Godfrey. A creation of mine. I used an animation spell. What do you think Harry?"  
  
Harry thought that Dumbledore was mad if he actually *wanted* a talking gargoyle on his doorstep but, tactfully, refrained from saying so. "Well, he's certainly…articulate."  
  
Professor Dumbledore's smile grew wider and he ushered Harry inside, obviously oblivious to the obscene faces he was getting from Godfrey. Harry had to stifle a giggle and, as the door swung shut, he could have sworn that Godfrey had winked at him.  
  
Professor Dumbledore turned to regard him from beneath his half-moon glasses, his eyes twinkling merrily. "I have some very good news for you Harry. Remus found him and brought him in last night."  
  
Harry frowned and was about to ask who had been found when the door opened and Harry spied Remus. His first thought was to strangle the man, as he had earlier promised himself he would do, but the cage on the table was far more interesting.  
  
Not overly large, but spacious enough for a full grown rat, the cage was glass and sealed all the way around. Inside the cage lay a fat grey rat snoozing. Harry's breath hitched.  
  
It was Pettigrew. There was no doubt about it.  
  
Harry cast a questioning glance at Remus who nodded encouragingly and he moved closer to the cage until it was at his eye level. Behind him, Professor Dumbledore quietly shut the door and walked over to Remus where they both engaged in a quite conversation.  
  
As Harry watched, the rat unwound itself and stared at him with fearful eyes before getting up and hastily backing away. *Yep* thought Harry. *No doubt about it. That's a human reaction.*  
  
After a while, Remus turned to him. "Harry?" Harry looked up questioningly. "Do you realise what this means?"  
  
Slowly, Harry nodded. "He'll have a trial which means Sirius will be free."  
  
Professor Dumbledore nodded. "And he'll be questioned under Veritaserum which means Fudge won't be able to deny Voldemort's existence any longer."  
  
Harry nodded. Things were starting to look up. "When's the trial?"  
  
"Three days from now. There's an Auror coming today to pick him up. You'll be able to go to the trial if you like."  
  
Harry smiled. "I'd like that." He looked back at the rat. Finally, Sirius would be free. And Harry would have a proper home to go to.  
  
* * *  
  
The trial came in a flurry of panic and a general state of nervousness. Ron and Hermione were uptight as well. Since they'd had 'dealings' with Pettigrew they'd be allowed to sit in on the hearing, as would Harry, but none of them would have to say anything.  
  
For three days, the trio sat around the Gryffindor common room playing the occasional game of Gobstones or talking to the twins or Tony. Tony had been a real rock. He was always there if you needed to talk or to just play a game with. Unfortunately, they weren't allowed to talk about the trial as it was 'classified information' but that didn't stop the twins from prying.  
  
As the three got up to leave on the Saturday, the twins made a beeline for them and started asking questions. Tony appeared out of nowhere and forcefully marched the two of them away while George complained loudly and Fred stated they'd see a lawyer.  
  
They met Professor Dumbledore, Remus and McGonagall outside the portrait, Harry feeling particularly queasy. McGonagall gave him a rare smile and then indicated that they should follow.  
  
The Ministry building located near the end of Diagon Alley was large and imposing. Harry wondered why on earth he'd never noticed it before. Beside him, Hermione leaned over and whispered to the two boys. "It's enchanted to only appear to those actively searching it out." Ah. That would explain why he's never seen it before.  
  
The room they were led into was very like the one Harry had seen in Dumbledore's pensieve. The walls were bare and grey. There were several rows of seats for those invited to the hearing. At one side of the room sat the jury, and at the other side lay the box where the defendant stood.  
  
Harry sat down in the seat saved for him and remained in silence with the rest of the group, twiddling his fingers. A few minutes later, the door flew open and a very bleary-eyed Peter was marched to the box and made to sit down. One of the men holding him down took out a small crystal phial and forced the liquid down the man's throat. Harry shuddered. Veritaserum. Pettigrew wouldn't stand a chance and judging by the look on his face, he had realised this too because he glanced imploringly at Fudge who was seated in the front row. Harry threw the Minister a spectacular glare before returning his attention to the man now slumping in the chair.  
  
"What is your name?"  
  
"Peter Pettigrew."  
  
"Full name?"  
  
"Peter Julian Pettigrew."  
  
"Good. To the matter in hand. Were you the Potters' secret-keeper at the time when You-know-who killed them?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
There were several gasps from around the room and Harry had to keep himself from smirking.  
  
"Did anyone know?"  
  
"Only myself, the Potters and Black."  
  
"How did Black know?"  
  
"It was his idea."  
  
"What idea?"  
  
"Black reasoned that Voldemort," there were many shudders at this name and the questioner winced, "would be less likely to think of me as the secret- keeper."  
  
"Then how did You-know-who get them?"  
  
"I handed them to him."  
  
Harry glanced up at Remus and was mildly surprised to see the usually calm and sensible man's face contorted with rage. Silence hung in the court room and Harry turned back in time to see the questioner gape and cough slightly.  
  
"You were a spy for Him?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Were you a Death Eater?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
More whispers filled the court room and Harry could see that Fudge didn't like the way this was going. He also didn't like the look the Minister was shooting at Dumbledore. The questioner paused and looked at his notes obviously ruling out Pettigrew's innocence on this particular charge.  
  
"Did Black kill thirteen muggles two days after the Potters had been killed?"  
  
"No." Whispers this time accompanied the gasps and the Minister frowned sternly at the gossiping jury.  
  
"Then who did?"  
  
"I did."  
  
"How?"  
  
"With the wand behind my back."  
  
"What did you do then?"  
  
"I transformed into a rat and ran away."  
  
The questioner nodded and looked briefly lost for a moment. Behind him, the whispers grew in volume.  
  
"Where have you been until now?"  
  
"Until just over a year ago I lived as a rat with a wizarding family. A year ago I returned to my master."  
  
This time, the statement was met by several panicked shouts. Harry could see Fudge start to tremble and the questioner had turned a sickly shade of green.  
  
"You returned to You-know-who?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But how? He's dead!"  
  
"No. He was resurrected four months ago."  
  
The room fell silent and Harry dearly wished he could sink into the floor around about now.  
  
"What? How?" The questioner was obviously panicking. The high pitched voice sort of gave it away.  
  
"An ancient spell. Flesh, Blood and Bone."  
  
The questioner looked puzzled and turned to the Minister for guidance. When no advice was forthcoming, the questioner slowly turned back and licked his lips before asking a question that made Harry's insides lurch.  
  
"What exactly does this spell involve?"  
  
Everyone in the room, except for Harry, Dumbledore and possibly Remus who already knew, leaned forward to hear better.  
  
"Bone of the father, flesh of the servant and blood of the enemy."  
  
The questioner obviously ran this over in his head before asking the question that sealed Harry's doom.  
  
"Who's blood was used?"  
  
"Harry Potter's."  
  
Every eye in the room swivelled to him and he could hear the murmurings get louder and louder until they were a little more than a monotonous hum. Harry tried desperately to block them out but to no success and it was with horror that he processed the next words.  
  
"The court calls Harry Potter to the stand."  
  
  
  
A/N Ooooh, another nice cliffie there! This chapter was originally going to be longer and have more Order stuff in it but the trial took longer than I thought it would and I had a sudden idea. So the stuff with the Order will come either in the next chapter or the one after depending on what I'm going to have happen when Harry has to speak at the trial.  
  
From here on in things are going to calm down somewhat until May/June when the climax of the entire fic happens.  
  
So, I'm going to pose a question. What do you want to see happen? Quidditch, lessons, extra Defence lessons, advanced lessons, Order lessons or duelling? Something else maybe? I suppose I could do all of them but it would take longer than I'd planned to finish the story and the story would end up being several chapters longer.  
  
Please let me know. And don't forget to review.  
  
I'd like to say I'm wowed by the response to the last chapter. I'm glad you liked it cos, in my opinion, I thought it was pretty poor.  
  
  
  
sophie-took you long enough to get round to reading it! Glad you like it. POV stands for "point of view". Please come again!  
  
Arizosa- as you may have guessed….no I can't resist cliffies. I'm glad you seem to like it.  
  
Lily Evans- sorry I can't kill of the rat cos he needs a trial, and right now Sirius is delirious so uhh…well, all I'll tell you is that the prophecy *will* come true (ie, the hunting hound of the sky will fall)  
  
The Red Dragons Order- wow, oh my god you like this? I looove your fics!!!!! They're great. Got round to reading them a couple of days ago. You made my day!  
  
Bob-thanks. I think your on the way to becoming my favourite reviewer unlike SOME people who never review!!!!  
  
Nuts- sorry abou the lack of Remus in this chapter. It got to long and I had to halve it. Actually, the next chapter looks set to do the same so Remus might not have a large part for another couple of chapters. Sorry!!!  
  
Ashie- thanks. Sorry to hear about your comp crashing. I hope you get the story back soon. Enjoy your birthday chappie!?!?!?  
  
Esmeralda- still simmering here…#  
  
Quaila- THANKS!!! You made me feel really special, seeing as how you're a cool writer too. Enjoy!  
  
Hyper Princess- thanks and good luck in your exams too! I'm sorry about how long these chapters are taking. I'll try to update more frequently after the exams! (  
  
lella- thanks. I've read Mortalus' fic and I can definitely see the resemblance but it wasn't supposed to be there  
  
Miranda Flairgold- wow, cool! Now I'm teo people's favourite list!!!! Thanks so much and I love your fics by the way. I think your really good at fighting scenes!  
  
tolkienite- hah sorry about that, that pisses me off when it happens. I'll be happy to email you! (  
  
jona- don't know how it happened either cos I know I emailed you but hey doesn't matter! Thanks loads, it's great to get praise from someone who's so good themself. And get a move on with Auriellis!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Starlight- thanks, I do try to get these out fast but it never really happens. Sorry, you'll just have to wait  
  
Nicky- glad to see someone enthusiastic, thanks for the review  
  
Sailor Vegeta-…well three weeks isn't quite as long as a month… 


	14. The Pensieve Projector

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own it although I'd dearly like to…hey if J.K Rowling (a.k.a rich ruler of the world) wants to sell it I have a fluff collection…did anyone notice my obsession with fluff?  
  
Whispers immediately filled the entire room, reverberating from wall to wall. Harry sat rigid in his chair, fixed eyes boring a hole into the opposite wall. He hadn't heard right. They couldn't expect him to stand up there and…could they? There was no way Harry wanted to relive that night and he seriously doubted anyone in their right mind would want to relive it with him. And yet, if he was questioned under Veritaserum, there was no way anyone could doubt the fact that Sirius was innocent and, even better, that Voldemort was back.  
  
Pulling himself out of his reverie, he looked up and studied the scene before him. Dumbledore was on his feet glaring daggers at Fudge. Harry noted, with a sort of distant interest, that his Headmaster's eyes were as cold and hard as they had been when listening to Crouch Jr. Lupin was beside Dumbledore, fists subconsciously clenching and unclenching as if he'd dearly like to place them around Fudge's throat. He seemed barely able to control his canine instincts: his entire body looked poised for action and his jaw was grinding slowly. Ron and Hermione sat still as mice, shooting the occasional worried glance at Harry and Harry remembered abruptly, with a large amount of guilt, that they still didn't know the entire truth of what had happened in the Third Task. The others present in the room, including half the Hogwarts faculty, Arabella Figg and Alastor Moody, seemed perfectly content to sit and watch the volley of dirty looks that the three grown men threw at each other although Moody's magical eye looked like it was going haywire.  
  
Harry noticed dimly that someone was shouting but he wasn't listening. He was watching Peter. The short man was watching the proceedings with a slightly hazy look, courtesy of the Veritaserum, but with a definite gleam of fear in his eye. Harry fervently hoped that he wouldn't be able to convince the Minister of his own innocence. No one was immune to bribery, Fudge least of all. The Minister was certainly stupid enough to take a bribe.  
  
He turned his attention to what everyone else was watching and fixed his look on Fudge. The man was red-faced and breathing heavily. His beady black eyes swivelled around the room and as they passed over him, Harry suddenly had a very happy idea.  
  
If he was to testify under Veritaserum, the Ministry would see Fudge as the fool he was.  
  
He'd be kicked out of office.  
  
Harry supposed his goofy grin had spread across his face because several people were giving him strange looks and some even began to edge away as if they though he was mad. Fudge's gaze snapped back to Harry and stayed there. Harry returned the look, without the faintest inkling of what the Minister had just said. But he'd be damned if he was going to look stupid in front of the Minister.  
  
The Minister spoke suddenly. "So, if Harry doesn't have any protests?"  
  
Harry realised, a little too late, that he couldn't say anything without looking stupid and if he didn't say anything he'd be agreeing to whatever it was Fudge had said.  
  
Luckily, however, it appeared as if Hermione had been listening because she launched at once into a fully-fledged complaint before Harry had time to blink. "But in a case in 1903 when a witness of Harry's age was fed Veritaserum it caused side-effects that never wore off. The same happened in 1912 and at the end of the First World War in 1945-``  
  
Fudge looked livid enough to shoot a unicorn. "ENOUGH!" he bellowed, spittle flying everywhere. Several people wiped their faces surreptitiously.  
  
Dumbledore cut in smoothly before he could go any further. "She is right Cornelius. The side-effects created by consumption by under-eighteens could well be disastrous for Harry. If Harry wishes to testify I shall not stop him, but I must insist that Veritaserum is not to be used!"  
  
Fudge shot such a look full of hatred and loathing at Harry that he wondered if it was really Snape under Polyjuice potion. But he quickly discarded that idea: not even Snape could possible be as dense as this. "Preposterous! The boy will concoct yet more lies!"  
  
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed and Harry could see McGonagall's lips thinning as if a student had done something incredibly dangerous and stupid. Dumbledore's voice all but thundered in the small room. "No, Cornelius. I will not allow it! The results could be disastrous for Harry."  
  
It was clear to Harry that Fudge desperately wanted to state that he didn't care if it turned out to be disastrous for him. Unfortunately, for the steadily increasing number of people present in the room who would love to throttle him, he refrained from saying so.  
  
Silence reigned until: "What about the Pensieve Projector?" asked Hermione.  
  
Harry, and most of the room, turned to her with confusement written all over their faces. Hermione rolled her eyes as if what she was talking about should be common knowledge. "The Pensieve Projector," she started slowly, making sure she had everyone's attention, "works much like a Pensieve only it allows more than one person to view the memory." Here she flashed a triumphant smile at Fudge. "And there are no side-effects."  
  
Fudge threw her a death glare. Harry absently reflected that if looks could kill, Hermione would be decomposing six feet under by now. Hermione continued with her explanation with a slightly smug air. "The Pensieve Projector has never been used in a court case to prove or disprove the case simply because most cannot hold the memory together long enough for it to become reality." Here she threw Harry a devious smile. "But I'm certain Harry could do it."  
  
Dumbledore turned to Harry, worry and concern evident in his piercing gaze. "Are you willing to try? We'll understand if you don't feel up to it-``  
  
"I'll do it," Harry said firmly.  
  
Dumbledore sighed and nodded as Fudge turned to a Ministry worker with a satisfied smile and ordered him to bring the Projector in.  
  
Harry suddenly wondered just what it was he had got himself into this time.  
  
* * *  
  
At first glance, the Projector was anything but impressive. It consisted, essentially, of a large black shiny box. On what Harry assumed was the top, a clear window of glass was bordered by strange silver runes that seemed to shift and pulsate in the dim light. The box was wheeled in on a trolley and brought to the centre of the room where it rested ominously.  
  
As Harry was led up to the box, he wondered why everyone was throwing the innocent-looking contraption apprehensive glances. It didn't look too bad. However, as Harry drew nearer, he noticed the box gave off an aura of fear and pain. Others must have noticed it too because they edged as far away from it as possible whilst trying not to appear scared. Most failed miserably.  
  
Harry peered through the window of the box to look inside. It contained the same silvery substance as Dumbledore's Pensieve had. Harry glanced up briefly into the anxious eyes of his Headmaster, unsure as to what he was supposed to do. Dumbledore smiled slightly and leant down to speak to him quietly. "Hold the beginning of the memory in your mind and place you wand inside the window. The Projector will do the rest."  
  
Harry nodded and closed his eyes, swallowing hard. His mind cast back to the events of what had occurred that night. Briefly, his mind floundered as he tried to find an appropriate place to start. Eventually, he settled on the battle with the spider and he set about memorising every detail of it: the large gaping mouth with razor-sharp fangs, the long hairy legs with hooked claws at the end, the eight beady black eyes… He shuddered involuntarily. Maybe he was trying a little too hard. Shrugging mentally, he grasped his wand and shoved it into the box.  
  
For a moment, nothing happened and Harry wondered if he'd done it right, but abruptly there was a high keening wail and the silvery substance seemed to expand to envelop him. There was a brief flurry of noises and colours that Harry couldn't comprehend but recognised as his life, rushing up to the one part he had focused on. The disorientation halted and Harry saw a momentary image of the spider lunging towards another him before his senses were swamped with the Pensieve liquid and his mind went blank.  
  
* * *  
  
Albus Dumbledore blinked briefly in surprise as Harry was engulfed by a swirling mass of light and sounds. The room shimmered once, twice and then began twisting out of shape, distorting everything the eye could see. With a short but loud *whump*, the room went black and the entire court room was propelled into Harry's memory.  
  
When he found his balance and orientation again, he was able to discern that he was standing, along with the rest of the court room, in the middle of a large field with what appeared to be high hedges hemming them in. It was Hermione who first realised where they were.  
  
"We're in the maze of the Third Task…"she breathed, curiosity lighting up her eyes.  
  
Once the majority of people had sorted themselves out and managed to disengage various limbs from each other and the gaps between the hedges, they started looking around. Whispers grew in volume as they waited for something, *anything*,to happen until even Dumbledore wondered where the hell Harry was.  
  
But it was Ron, rather than Harry, who first drew everyone's attention. Suddenly, his entire body seized up and he let out a blood-curdling scream, pointing ahead of him and gibbering incoherently. Almost expecting Voldemort to materialise from nowhere, Dumbledore whirled around and almost laughed out loud when he saw what had got Ron so terrified.  
  
A giant, monstrous and purely *ugly* spider had just finished appearing in the confines of the maze. Thankfully, however, its attention wasn't fixed on them but on…Cedric. Dumbledore's eyes widened as he watched the spider hurtle along the passageway towards Cedric, at the same time wondering how Harry figured into this equation. The answer presented itself almost immediately in the form of Harry rushing around the corner and coming to a sliding halt, wand pointed at the monster. Cedric turned around and immediately focused his own wand on the large cluster of eyes situated in the centre of the beast's head.  
  
Behind him, Dumbledore could hear Ron whimpering in fear and Hermione trying to comfort him and he smiled despite the situation. He turned back to the scene just in time to see the spider crash heavily to the ground with a loud thud. Harry was sitting upright nearby with an expression of mild pain and annoyance on his face. Cedric straightened and walked over to Harry. Everyone leant in closer to hear what the two were saying.  
  
"Take it, then. "Go on, take it. You're there." This was Harry.  
  
"You take it. You should win. That's twice you've saved my neck in here."  
  
"That's not how it's supposed to work. The one who reaches the Cup first gets the points. That's you. I'm telling you, I'm not going to win any races on this leg."  
  
The conversation continued in this vein for quite some time. The audience listened with amused expressions occasionally rolling their eyes or shaking their heads at the sheer stubbornness of the two teenagers. Eventually however:  
  
"Both of us."  
  
"What?"  
  
"We'll take it at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it."  
  
"You-you sure?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
This decided upon, the two teenagers made their way to the plinth that held the cup. And even though Dumbledore knew what would happen next, he couldn't stop the gasp of surprise that escaped his lips as both boys disappeared without a sound. Abruptly, the scene before them went blank before shifting into a new one. One of a graveyard.  
  
Looking around, he could tell that the graveyard had been filled to its maximum capacity. It looked dirty and un-kept, although the occasional bouquet of flowers resting on tombstones destroyed that illusion. Dumbledore watched with a sad air as the events Harry had told him of began to unfold in front of his eyes.  
  
The audience fell unnaturally silent when Cedric fell to the ground, eyes blank and lifeless. Several people threw nasty looks at Fudge who fidgeted nervously. The image of the graveyard blurred and slipped a little every now and then, no doubt brought on by the ambiguity of Harry's memory and impairment of his vision at the time. It was still clear enough, however, to witness the horrifying scene as Wormtail tied Harry to the tombstone and started the spell.  
  
"*Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son*" Several people shrank back in fear and disgust as they saw a fine trickle of dust rise from the earth and settle softly into the cauldron, hissing quietly.  
  
"*Flesh--of the servant--w--willingly given--you will--revive--your master*" Vision blacked out abruptly before they could see the dagger connect with flesh, Harry having worked out what was going to happen a split second faster than the audience who were by now regarding each other with abhorrence and fear, wondering what was to befall Harry.  
  
"*B-blood of the enemy…forcibly taken…you will…resurrect your foe*" Vision snapped back instantly with frightening clarity to allow the audience to see the dagger Wormtail held and to witness the sight of Harry struggling helplessly, before it blinked out again as they saw the knife lowered to Harry's skin. Even in the blank void, the feelings of pain and fear, with an underlying tone of anger and determination, mired them as they floundered helplessly, trying to block out Harry's emotions.  
  
Sight appeared again slowly and cleared with each passing second to finally focus fully on the image of a thin man with nightmarish features: White as a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes, and a nose that was flat as a snake's with slits for nostrils…the face of Lord Voldemort.  
  
Several people screamed and others reeled back in loathing and horror. Dumbledore remained stonily silent waiting for what he knew would come next and what would be the largest shock to the presently assembled. The audience was still in complete disarray when the Death Eaters apparated in and, for most, it only served to increase their fear. They all fell silent, however, when Voldemort began to address them one by one.  
  
"Lucius, my slippery friend. I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me Lucius…your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay…but might your energies have been better directed towards finding and aiding your master?"  
  
The Ministry workers watched in disbelief as Lucius Malfoy grovelled before Lord Voldemort and whispers spread throughout the crowd as to the best way to punish the traitor. Dumbledore shook his head sadly.  
  
"Macnair…destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair, Lord Voldemort will provide…"  
  
More whispers followed this and even more as the next Death Eaters were revealed: Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, Nott…  
  
They listened, dumbstruck, as Voldemort related what had happened and where he had been in the thirteen years of his absence. The largest shock came to them, however, when Voldemort turned to Harry and spoke softly.  
  
"Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand."  
  
They watched in disbelief as Harry stood up, if a little drunkenly, and faced Voldemort, ready to duel. They saw Voldemort let loose a volley of curses that barely missed Harry and gasped as he was hit by the Cruciatus Curse several times. The fight that ensued was fast and furious and even Alastor Moody had to admit that Harry's reflexes were probably the only things that saved his life.  
  
Dumbledore surveyed the scene, letting nothing escape his gaze. Others may not have seen the doubt on Wormtail's face, but he did. Others may not have noticed the gleam of fear in Voldemort's eyes as he taunted Harry, but he did. Others may not have heard the sounds of quiet sobbing from somewhere, but he did. There was a sudden burst of light and the air was filled abruptly with the soothing sound of phoenix song, and he knew that Priori Incantatem had begun.  
  
There was a stunned silence as Harry's wand connected with Voldemort's: most people had no idea that the wands were brothers. Aside from Harry and himself, only Sirius and Mr Ollivander had known. As it was now, many more people knew now and there would no doubt be an article in the next *Daily Prophet*, claiming that the poor boy was the next Dark Lord. Dumbledore sighed and watched with the others as the echoes of Voldemort's victims circled him.  
  
Suddenly, Harry raised his head and yelled "NOW!" breaking the contact with Voldemort's wand. He fell to the ground and landed lightly. Details of the most obscure things possible suddenly became crystal clear, as if Harry had tried to take everything in at once. The shades were still around Voldemort, closing in on him to bar him from Harry.  
  
And Harry ran. He ran faster than anyone had ever seen him run before as if he had several Blast-Ended Skrewts on his tail. He knocked aside two Death Eaters in his headlong dash for freedom and zigzagged all over the place, narrowly avoiding the curses and hexes sent his way. Even Moody seemed impressed as Harry ducked behind a stone angel and then ran on, mini- seconds before the angel's head was blasted sky high.  
  
And then, finally, Harry reached Cedric's body and made a lunge for it. The multicoloured hues of various curses lit the sky as Harry summoned the Cup to him. As Harry caught the Cup and vanished from sight, a great roar of fury echoed throughout the graveyard and it sent shivers down everyones' spine. Then the scene faded and they were left in a void of nothing with only Harry's pain to accompany them.  
  
* * *  
  
Dumbledore's feet touched the ground lightly and he found himself stumbling a little in the small court room. He briefly scanned the room. Almost every expression was the same: a mixture of sorrow, awe and fear. All except Fudge who's face was red enough to pass as a beetroot. Dumbledore smiled slightly. This was the end of the line for the incompetent fool. Maybe he'd finally be able to do something about the upcoming war now without the Ministry interfering at every turn.  
  
His thoughts were brought back to Harry as the Projector hastily released him and sent him lurching backwards. Dumbledore stepped forwards swiftly and let the boy fall into his outstretched arms. Harry looked up at him in surprise and tried to struggle against him but he was unexpectedly weak. Dumbledore frowned. Harry needed rest but he was positive the boy wouldn't like to spend yet more time in the Hospital Wing. He smirked as he thought of just the right place: away from prying eyes and it had a decidedly anti- Slytherin theme, something he was sure Harry would appreciate. With a brief nod to the Ministry workers who were already apprehending Fudge and setting out to arrest Death Eaters in the Ministry, he cast a sleeping charm on Harry, lifted him easily and carried him rapidly from the room.  
  
A/N Sorry about the wait. I'll use the same excuse as everyone else…exams, the bane of my life and ff.n buggering up... Well, no cliff hanger this chapter *gasp*. There's a pleasant surprise next chapter and this is the end of the torture and nasty stuff until the run up to the climax which will probably be in about five or so chapters.  
  
I'd like to take this opportunity to encourage people to read my new Harry Potter fic: In the Hands of Fate. It's not related to this fic in any way but It's got a plotline I haven't seen anywhere. Basically, the gods decide to play a game of chess with the Harry Potter characters as the pieces. Chaos ensues, more literally than you think. Readers so far seem to think it's good and quite funny.  
  
Thanks to Amy and Kat for helping me come up with the idea of the Pensieve Projector. Kat, I promise more Mission Nuclear will be on the way sometime soon…  
  
Sorry not much time for shout outs today…  
  
Thanks to Gia, Lily Evans, Nuts, keroberous, Bob, Sirius Black, Quaila, iuvat equus, Shadow Chaser( get a move on with your fic), Miranda Flairgold (still love your fics), Sailor Vegeta( looking forward to Sunday), Ashie (where've you been girl?), butterflygirl, Esmeralda, Arizosa, Hyper Princess(hugs back) and The Red Dragons Order.  
  
Due to the number of people who said they wanted everything I mentioned last chapter, I'm pleased to announce that I will be doing all of them but it may take a while.  
  
Luv baasheep  
  
Xx 


	15. Strategies and a pleasant surprise

A/N Sorry again for the long wait. I've been ironing out a few holes in the plot before I got this out. Chapter 15 is finally here. Enjoy!!!  
  
When Harry awoke, the first thing that crossed his mind was the mortifying fact that he had fallen unconscious.*again* and in a room full of people no less! It had to be some sort of record.  
  
The next thing he noticed was that, although there was a dim light filtering in from *somewhere*, he couldn't see a damn thing.  
  
Harry sighed. At least he wasn't in the Hospital Wing; the absence of an irate and blustery Madame Pomfrey allowed him that much. He knew he wasn't in his dormitory either; he couldn't hear Neville snoring. Harry lay back and relaxed against the soft pillows, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. Questions tumbled over each other in their haste to be heard: Why did these things always happen to him? Why was he so special? What was Dumbledore holding from him? And most importantly.  
  
WHO IN THE SEVEN HELLS WAS THE PERSON IN THE CORNER?  
  
Harry blinked rapidly, trying to focus. When that proved useless, he abruptly sat up in a panic in order to escape. Harry gasped and struggled to sit up but the bedclothes were having none of it and wrapped around his body, squeezing the breath from his lungs. In his blind panic, he succeeded in rolling over the edge of the bed and landing on the floor with a loud thump which caused the slumbering figure across the room to awake with a snort. There was a quick inhalation from the other side of the room and then Harry felt strong, reassuring arms lifting him and placing him back onto the bed.  
  
"Ssshhh, Harry. Calm down, please. Madame Pomfrey doesn't know I'm here. She'll kill me if she thinks I'm disturbing you," a low voice whispered softly.  
  
Harry froze. He'd know that voice anywhere.  
  
"Sirius!" he cried gleefully and whirled around to hug Sirius back. Sirius laughed quietly. "Woah, steady there! You almost had my eye out! I promised Dumbledore I'd make you rest." He paused here and looked at Harry strangely, as if he wasn't quite sure of what he was seeing. He obviously satisfied himself however because the next second, Harry was enveloped in a bone-shattering hug. "I-I'm sorry.so sorry." Sirius whispered fiercely in his ear.  
  
Harry frowned whilst at the same time gaping like a fish out of water for breath. "About what?" he choked.  
  
Sirius sighed heavily and loosened his hold fractionally. "Fudge should never have made you go through that. It's my fault.and I wasn't there when you needed me."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes pointedly. Sirius could be exceptionally dense. "Sirius," he said softly, "I don't blame you. You couldn't have known it would happen just like you can't know what will happen tomorrow. When it's all said and done, it all boils down to Voldemort," Harry was quite impressed when Sirius only flinched a little at the feared name, "and there's nothing we can do but prepare and live each day to the utmost." Briefly, Harry had the insight to wonder where that little lesson in philosophy had come from but he dismissed it when he saw Sirius looking at him even more strangely. "Don't blame yourself Sirius. I know Dad wouldn't have wanted you to." It was a last resort and Harry suspected both of them knew it but it served its purpose.  
  
Sirius smiled weakly and tightened his grip with a frightening intensity, so much so that Harry found himself slightly short of breath. "God knows where you come up with this stuff but you somehow always say the right thing. I'll try not to as long as you promise me something."  
  
Harry frowned, trying to express his disapproval as best he could whilst crushed to a bony shoulder. "What?" he asked tentatively.  
  
"Don't blame yourself."  
  
"For what?" Harry squirmed uncomfortably, already knowing the answer.  
  
"Cedric.Voldemort."  
  
Harry winced and Sirius could have hit himself when he saw the glittering emeralds of Harry's eyes cloud with shadows. It gave him an oddly haunting quality that unnerved Sirius to the core, reminding him entirely of his own eyes. Desperately, he clutched Harry and soothed him.  
  
Harry heaved a sigh that made him seem entirely too old and leant into the embrace, closing his eyes. "I don't.at least, not as much as I did. It's hard.but I think I realise what you're all trying to force through my skull." Sirius gave him an encouraging smile.  
  
There was a brief moment of tense silence between the two until Harry decided he couldn't stand it anymore. "So.um.how did you get here? I asked Dumbledore where you were but he said he couldn't say and you haven't owled me in ages."  
  
Sirus grinned at Harry. "That's thanks to Elandar." Seeing Harry's confused expression he elaborated. "Elandar is the caladrius Hagrid showed you at the beginning of the year. Elandar and Fawkes found me when the poison had become too much for my system but Elandar still managed to purge it.or at least that's what Madame Pomfrey said. I'll never forget that.looked straight into my eyes.those pink eyes are seriously unnatural." Harry nodded in agreement. Pink wasn't too far from red and right now, his least favourite person's irises were a deep blood red.  
  
Harry's mind, however, latched onto the one negative thing in Sirius' explanation, one that Sirius had hoped would be overlooked for today at least.  
  
"What poison?"  
  
Sirius sighed. It was going to be a long morning.  
  
* * *  
  
Albus Dumbledore smiled at the scene unfolding in the crystal ball before waving a hand, obscuring the picture, and granting godfather and godson their privacy. Wearily, he turned to those assembled with him. His office had been magically expanded to accommodate the large number of people currently sitting around his elongated desk.  
  
"What are we going to do Albus?" asked Minerva. "The Ministry's in uproar over the trial and there isn't much time. You-know-who's power is increasing by the day!"  
  
Albus sighed. "There isn't a lot that we can do Minerva but we will have to make do with what little we can."  
  
Remus Lupin cast a wary eye around the table and spoke up quietly. "We need to fight fire with fire. Set up an auror team to counter his attacks."  
  
"That's a good idea theroretically, Remus, but we have no idea when or where he's going to attack," Arabella pointed out.  
  
"Well, what happened to our spy? Where's he disappear off to? He's supposed to be able to tell us what's going on!"  
  
Albus held up a hand. "Please calm down Mundungus. Sirius has informed me that Severus' betrayal has been discovered by the Death Eaters. A rescue party must be sent out to retrieve him."  
  
"Who?" asked Mundungus.  
  
"I had hoped you would lead the group. You have expertise in this area and it is essential I get my Potions master back as swiftly as possible. Ignia is terrifying the students far more so than Severus could ever hope to achieve."  
  
Remus' cough sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "He won't like learning that!"  
  
Albus smiled briefly. "Mundungus?" Mundungus sent a questioning look skywards to heaven and, eventually, nodded reluctantly.  
  
"And what after that?" Minerva demanded.  
  
"We must make preparations. The protection spells around Hogwarts must be recast. I am sure Voldemort will attack us here, it's only a matter of time. We must also send messengers to other Ministries, asking for their aid and co- operation."  
  
All those present nodded thoughtfully. Alastor Moody, who had until that point been staring at the door, added his own wisdom. "Make sure Gringotts is protected as well. If that were to be destroyed, there'd be chaos. And we must somehow inform the public of You-know-who's return. Everyone must be on CONSTANT VIGILANCE!!"  
  
Mundungus, who was sitting next to him jumped out of his seat and glared at Mad-Eye, growling threateningly. "And how do we do that when the Ministry won't listen to us?"  
  
"Simple," replied Remus smiling. "We make sure the new Minister is someone we trust and who will help us. Preferably somehow who has a long overdue promotion."  
  
Albus smiled. "Arthur Weasley. Thank you for the idea Remus. I shall inform him after this meeting. As for your other idea.I think that once we have someone reliable running the Ministry, an auror team shouldn't be too much of a problem. Gringotts will be more of a problem."  
  
Here, tiny Professor Flitwick piped up from where he was sitting on several thick books to reach the table. "I know some connections in the Ministry who could do that."  
  
Albus nodded gratefully. "Azkaban must also be removed from the grip of the Dementors. They will not hesitate to join Voldemort when he asks them." The room suddenly became a sea of grim faces. "Although the Giants have refused us, Hagrid tells me they have promised not to interfere. Nevertheless, Voldemort's army will not suffer. Many of all species will turn to him in the blink of an eye."  
  
Alastor Moody suddenly took on a gleam in his eye. "If that runt's going to attack here.the students will need to be.prepared."  
  
Albus raised an eyebrow. "And what do you propose Alastor?"  
  
Moody's grin became nothing short of feral. "A duelling club."  
  
Albus smiled and his eyes twinkled furiously. "An excellent idea Alastor. I take it you would wish to supervise?" Moody nodded. "Good. And Arabella, if you could teach the students Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts.the sort of creatures and situations they may encounter." Arabella nodded. "For now there is nothing we can do about the Dementors. We must deal with them when it comes to it."  
  
Silence stretched as all in the room became lost in their morbid thoughts. Then, quite suddenly, and out of the blue:  
  
"What about Potter?" growled Moody.  
  
Albus sighed. "There is little we can do for Harry, Alastor. Another protection charm must be found for when he leaves at the end of the year and Remus has already agreed to aid him in dealing with the Order but that is all we can do. The rest is up to Harry."  
  
Moody looked thoughtful. After a moment he announced, and not without a large amount of relish: "I'll teach him duelling privately!"  
  
McGonagall looked horrified. "Alastor, you'll terrorise the poor child. He'll lose limbs."  
  
Alastor grinned. "Better limbs than lives!"  
  
Remus suddenly spoke up. "Albus, something is bothering me about this Order of the Phoenix." Albus raised his eyebrows and indicated for him to continue. "It doesn't seem right! Fawkes is supposed to be guarding him but, if anything, it's giving Voldemort more of a chance to destroy his moral. I can't imagine what it must be like having dreams like Harry has, but that's not the half of it! I've done some research on the other known Orders. Each and every one failed in its job. The Order was released before one or the other of those under the protection was ready. Are we sure we know what the Order actually does? We can't risk losing Harry on an off- chance."  
  
Albus frowned and rubbed his temples worriedly. "Have you found any first hand accounts?"  
  
Remus nodded. "A diary, but all it mentioned was some kind of understanding and a conclusion drawn from that. *I* don't understand it! How can Harry?"  
  
Albus leant back in his chair. "This is worrying. In light of this, I'm glad he will be getting extra tuition. But the Order has been established and only Fawkes can release it when he sees fit. Hopefully, that will be another couple of years. Remus," the younger man looked up, "you must still help Harry though. Aside from the fact that your mere presence will help him, we must do something about those dreams. No one should have to see that, much less a child." He waved a hand. "I think that is enough for today. I must contact Arthur Weasley."  
  
One by one, they all left until only Remus remained, his hand on the door knob ready to swing it shut. Albus looked at him questioningly.  
  
"Harry has already seen more than any child should. His childhood ceased the second he was handed over to the Dursleys."  
  
The door swung shut behind him and Albus Dumbledore sank into his seat and buried his face in his hands.  
  
* * *  
  
"Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter must come in, sit down."  
  
Harry blinked in the bright lights and allowed himself to be herded away from the entrance to the Kitchens. Snuffles whined and crouched underneath Harry as the diminutive House elves crowded around him and began petting him and saying nonsense like 'Ahh.oo's a clever dog then?'  
  
Harry sighed. In retrospect, perhaps a quick sneak down to the Kitchens for a bite to eat hadn't been such a good idea as he'd originally thought.  
  
"Harry Potter must be very hungry. Dobby has heard of the trial, and what Mr Harry Potter had to recount." Suddenly, the tiny creature clamped a hand over its mouth and his eyes went wide and lamp-like. "Dobby is sorry sir! Dobby did not mean to remind you! Bad Dobby!"  
  
Harry rolled his eyes heavenwards and reached out to the elf before it succeeded in braining itself with the frying pan. *I simply don't have the patience for this* he thought as he watched Dobby wallow in self-pity. "Dobby, I'm really hungry. Could I have some food please?"  
  
Dobby looked up half-way through his rant on how House elves, particularly those named Dobby, were wicked, and stared at him with tearful eyes. "Harry Potter is too kind sir.! Yes, of course. Harry Potter must be fed." Immediately, the House elves scurried off in all directions, brandishing fatal-looking cooking implements. Within minutes, there was a meal nothing short of a feast laid out on the table before him.  
  
Throughout the entire meal, Snuffles hid under the table nursing his wounded pride and his over-pulled tail.  
  
After a hasty meal, Snuffles dragged Harry out of the room by the edge of his robes and pulled him down several long and dark hallways before transforming into his human form. He grimaced and shuddered involuntarily. "Remind me to never see the House elves as Snuffles again!"  
  
Harry laughed at his godfather's discomfort. "The famous rampaging murderer, cowed by House elves. They'd probably try to kill themselves because of your discomfort. They live only to serve."  
  
Sirius looked hopeful at the prospect of a suicidal killing-spree but sighed at a disapproving glance from his godson and started off in the direction of the Gryffindor Common Room. "I don't want people to see me yet, especially seeing as the news hasn't been released yet."  
  
Harry frowned. "You can't really blame the Ministry," at Sirius' incredulous look, he hastily continued, "I mean, they haven't got a leader right now." he pointed out.  
  
Sirius' face split into a goofy grin at the memory of Fudge being kicked from office. "You should have seen the look on his face Harry! 'You can't! I'm the Minister!'" he exclaimed in an off-pitch impression of the ex- Minister.  
  
Harry laughed and followed him down the moving staircases to the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Hey, Snuffles!" Sirius turned around and watched him with a raised eyebrow. "They still don't know." he said somehow indicating, through bizarre hand gestures, the people on the other side of the portrait.  
  
Sirius nodded and grinned. His grin suddenly spread from to ear to ear as he added: "And the Ministry still don't know I'm an Animagus."  
  
Seconds later, those in the Gryffindor Common Room looked up in surprise at the sound of loud barking to see a large black dog pull Harry, laughing, into the Common Room. Fred and George immediately took it upon themselves to rescue Harry from 'The Grim' as Ginny dubbed it in her shrieks of fear. Soon, the entire House was caught up in a wild goose chase, following the elusive dog as it wound in and out of the furniture, upsetting ink bottles and scattering parchment.  
  
And from the shadows, a figure watched, playing idly with a silver knife that flashed menacingly in the firelight.  
  
It would remain hidden until the time was right, then strike like a snake.a viper in the den.  
  
The Snake in the Grass.  
  
  
  
A/N. OOOoooooh, the prophecy is *finally* coming true! Well, I hope Sirius being alive was a nice surprise for you. More fun next chapter when Term restarts and Moody begins his reign of terror *cough* I mean duelling club. Quidditch on the way too!!!!!!  
  
Thanks go to: Anja: I'm e-mailing you as soon as I get this up Ashie: Thanks, and continue with your fic. I promise I *am* writing a letter..it's just a long time in the making. Nuts: Yep! Fudge is booted. I was going to have a whole scene which showed that but it didn't really fit in so I cut it. And Sirius is free!...and alive!!! Arizosa: Hmmm.dunno if he'll get the Kiss. I'm toying with the idea though. It *is* tempting. Bob: Thanks again and again. Ariel: I'm flattered you like it so much. Thanks! kittyk@: Thanks. We need to get a move on with Snuffles *wink*. Have a good hol too! The Red Dragons Order: Thanks and keep updating your OotP and the new one. They're great! Hyper Princess: wow thanks. The best chapter so far? Really? You made my day! :-) Lome_Roquen: Thank you. I'm e-mailing you as soon as I get this out. jona: Thanks and get a move on with your fics. I haven't heard a peep out of you in ages. No Reply: Thanks. I admit that it hadn't crossed my mind that Harry would have to be pretty light for Dumbledore to lift him. Let's just say he's a real skinny kid. Nicky: Reactions of the world in general don't come till later but they'll have a large effect on the goings-on. gdfdhgewakjwgt: wow, that's an odd penname.thank you very much *bows*. That's the greatest praise I could hope to achieve! 


	16. Repercussions of the Past and Judgements...

A/N Hey, I'm sorry this took so long. Suffice it to say I've had a few personal problems. I also decided that I didn't like my writing style. It's changed a little so tell me what you think. I'm also recovering from a bout of bad luck today. I've heard of Murphy's Law, I've even experienced it a few times but never *never* did I think it would go so far as to somehow make me set an oven on fire. And precisely how do you set an oven on fire? Don't ask. Don't worry; I will NOT abandon this fic. It WILL be finished. The only question is exactly when.   
  
Chapter 16   
  
During his brief stay at Hogwarts this Christmas, Sirius had discovered two things. The first was that the ancient castle was a lot quieter with the absence of a large body of screaming children. The second was that by one way or another he had somehow managed to acquire not only the best godson in the world, but also the most infuriating.   
  
Sirius hadn't asked a lot of questions about Harry's life with the Dursleys. He could sense that they were still a sensitive topic to his godson but the main reason he refrained from questioning Harry was that, simply, he felt he should probably obtain better control of his temper before he learnt the truth.otherwise he had the ominous feeling that there'd be three very dead Dursleys knocking around.   
  
At first, Sirius had assumed that the reason Harry didn't want to tell him anything was due to the fact that Harry didn't know him too well. After all, the teen hardly knew him except by reputation (and he would be the first to admit it wasn't a particularly good reputation) and they'd talked face to face only four times. But as the Christmas festivities waned and Filch could be seen scanning the corridors for wayward fairies past their extinct-by-date, Harry still refused point blank to tell him anything. And as the holidays progressed further into the New Year celebrations, Sirius had begun to lose his patience. He *knew* there were things bothering Harry, any number of them. And he wanted to help, he really did (even if Moony had laughed at the idea of him actively *helping* anyone), but there wasn't an awful lot he could do if Harry remained silent.   
  
The teen remained just as stubbornly silent on the subject of help as he had ever been (*just like his father*). This had resulted in many hair- pulling and teeth-gnashing sessions on Sirius' part when Harry wasn't around. As Remus had bluntly put it two days ago, "Harry will tell us what he wants to *when* he wants. Don't pressure him, Sirius. He can't deal with that right now. You'll just have to learn patience, Padfoot." And Sirius had promptly lost his hold on his temper, hurling a priceless vase at the mantelpiece.   
  
Now, staring out of the window at the starry sky above, Sirius felt a profound sadness. Remus was right, of course. He smiled slightly, *Always has been.*.   
  
When had his priorities changed from surviving whilst on the run, to fussing over his godson like a mother hen? When Harry had been a baby, he'd never worried *this* much and James had always joked that he worried enough for the both of them. Of course, that probably had something to do with the fact that a one-year old wouldn't be able to lift a sword, never mind attempt to slay a basilisk with it.   
  
His mind still boggled at that one. A basilisk! How could he have not known? It had happened, what, three years ago and no one had told him! His godson, only twelve at the time, had killed a fully grown basilisk! He'd a hard time with not passing out when Remus had informed him of that particular adventure. He *had* passed out, however, when Remus had then informed him, with no small amount of malicious glee, about an acromantula colony as well. He had developed a new-found respect for arachnids of the large hairy variety. In his experience (granted it *was* limited but it was probably a lot more than any other silly suicidal sod had managed to acquire), only one type of man ever made it out of those colonies, and they were generally referred to as corpses. Well, there was him.but he didn't really count, he'd had help. And Hagrid wasn't even a man to begin with. The fact that his twelve-year old godson had not only apparently got out alive but actually had a conversation, however one-sided, with the things, astounded him.   
  
Sirius felt a rush of pride towards Harry. The boy was certainly special, unique. There was an uncanny aptitude for dealings with magical and potentially lethal creatures that neither Lily nor James had possessed. In fact, he could still remember that unforgettable autumn morning when one of the hippogriffs had escaped and chased the couple through the greenhouses. No, it was something belonging solely to Harry. How many fifteen-year-olds could claim that they'd killed a basilisk, talked to an acromantula, called a phoenix, flown on a hippogriff, defeated a dragon, outwitted the mermen, tackled a three-headed dog, taken on a fully grown mountain troll.and succeeded in politely eluding a House Elf.   
  
He shuddered uncontrollably. Those elves were something else. He'd taken to hiding behind Harry whenever they were around because they didn't seem to bother his godson. He'd almost died of laughter when one of them referred to Ron as 'Harry Potter's Wheezy'. The red-head had flamed crimson from the roots downwards. He'd had his comeuppance, however, when he'd been mentioned in passing as 'Harry Potter's Sniffles'.   
  
The chaos that had originally erupted after the announcement of Sirius' innocence had died down somewhat, especially when his story took backstage to the headline the following day: "Fudge: Past its Use-By-Date!" Inside, he'd jumped with glee when he read that, and he was relatively certain that he wasn't the only one.   
  
Not that he and Harry had been paying much attention to the media recently. Luckily, that Skeeter woman still hadn't reappeared from whichever hole she'd been forced to crawl under. As a result, there were no horrific lies about the state of Harry's mental health. And now the entire wizarding world was clued into the fact that Voldemort was indeed back and intent on regaining the sort of power he had held fourteen years ago.   
  
But Sirius tried not to worry about that, not that it was easy when there were muggles disappearing all over the country. No, he much preferred the time he spent with Harry. And despite that bonding, Harry *still* wouldn't talk to him. It was enough to give Sirius a hernia. His godson seemed to have some ridiculous notion, probably ingrained by the Dursleys, that he mustn't burden others with his problems.  
  
Despite Harry's lack of willingness to talk to him, Sirius thoroughly enjoyed the time he could now speak with Harry without the fear of being shipped off to Azkaban. He'd vowed to himself as soon the trial had ended that he would take care of Harry. Sitting beside Harry's bed, waiting for the teenager to wake up, he'd enforced that vow a dozen times. He'd been touched by what Harry had endured to prove his innocence and if he had anything to say about it, the fifteen-year-old wasn't about to go through the experience again. And while he'd spent a lot of time feeling useless while Madame Pomfrey fussed over the sheets, he'd made a second promise. He would never turn his back on Harry when his godson needed him, never.   
  
Harry had taken a long time in recovering from the effects of the Pensieve Projector and Sirius had taken the time to think. He'd thought about Pettigrew and Voldemort, but mostly, he'd thought about Harry's part in the upcoming war.   
  
Fifteen years old and already at the top of Voldemort's 'To Do-in' list. Fifteen years old, and he'd already escaped from the Dark Lord more times than most ever saw him.   
  
Sirius desperately wanted to protect Harry from what was coming but it seemed that fate was spiteful. Even without the Order, Harry saw enough of Voldemort through his scar. And Sirius was decidedly *not* happy about Remus' news. *Apparently*, the Order didn't seem to do what it was *supposed* to, and that frightened Sirius beyond belief. With that amount of power malfunctioning, one wrong move and the Order could kill either of its participants. Not that he'd have minded if Voldemort had kicked the bucket, but seeing as there was a link, there was always the possibility that Harry would go with him. Sirius wasn't going to risk that.   
  
As if there wasn't already enough to worry about.   
  
As much as Sirius hated to admit it, there was something special about Harry. He performed well in all subjects; apparently without realising he did so. He inspired confidence and brought out the best in people. He had a knack for getting out of nasty scrapes. Sirius knew that those qualities would be needed in the upcoming war. And there was the added strange detail that Fawkes seemed to like the boy. Albus was indefinitely amused by this but Sirius was less happy. It didn't bode well.   
  
Sirius hadn't liked the conclusion he'd reached, sitting on his wide, comfy chair, listening to the sound of the fire crackling. Harry was essential to the war effort and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.   
  
Whilst Sirius had sat and sulked, Madame Pomfrey had come bustling in with yet more stomach-turning medicines. Sirius' stomach had tried to escape through his mouth just *looking* at the stuff. She's disappeared into the side room and for half an hour, the silence had been broken by the ominous clinking of glass vials leaving Sirius to wonder what she was concocting.   
  
To say he had been surprised when Madame Pomfrey had emerged finally with a tiny steaming goblet was the understatement of the year. She had spared him only a glance before turning towards Harry and doing some wonderfully complex, impressive and, no doubt, useless examination. Eventually, she straightened up and set the goblet carefully on the bedside table.   
  
"Give that to him as soon as he wakes up. It'll make him sleep for as long as his body needs it. I believe Albus has arranged rooms for you."   
  
Sirius had nodded absently and she had bustled from the room.   
  
Admittedly, in hindsight, no one had expected quite how much Harry's body had needed to recuperate. Evidently, the events of the last year or so had caught up with him and his body had seized the opportunity for uninterrupted rest.   
  
Sighing heavily, Sirius pulled his gaze from the window and turned to watch his godson sleep.   
  
The teen's face was relaxed in slumber, the absence of recently acquired stress and fatigue lines painfully obvious. His complexion was pale, almost unhealthily so, and his eyes were ringed by dark, heavy circles. He was thinner than Sirius remembered and his hair was even messier than James' had been at the same age.   
  
Sirius would never admit it, but the look in Harry's eyes when he'd first woken up had scared the hell out of him. The dazzling emeralds he remembered had fogged, but there had been fear and self-condemnation. And hatred. The idea that a young boy could harbour so much hatred for anything caused him to rethink his opinion on Harry's situation. It was harmful to hold that much hatred, he knew, and he'd be a hypocrite if he tried to deny he was doing the same.   
  
Still, there was little he could do, save getting rid of Voldemort which, if it wasn't impossible enough already, was even more so now since no one could find the little bugger. The evidence of his having been there in the first place, however, was all too clear.   
  
Since his dream experience with Harry, Voldemort seemed set on reinstating the sort of power he had held before his downfall. The Headlines of the Daily Prophet were becoming all too similar to those of fourteen years ago. Missing persons, mysterious and sudden deaths, random members of the public turning insane. The Daily Prophet was having a field day, or rather, an entire field trip. Bodies would appear all over the place, reasons for death remaining ambiguous.   
  
Luckily, as of yet, the muggles hadn't noticed anything too out of the ordinary. Sirius was fairly sure that if they had, there would be a few extra bodies floating down the River Thames.   
  
Harry, of course, had been a complete angel over the entire thing. He still blamed himself to a certain extent but Sirius was a lot happier and he couldn't blame the kid, not when he felt much the same towards Harry's parents. What he was decidedly *not happy* about were the dreams that now plagued the young teenager almost every night.   
  
Harry never told anyone the intricate details of the dreams he had, for which Sirius was slightly grateful. Not that he didn't want to help his godson, but having witnessed the horrendous effects of Voldemort's actions, he had no wish to hear and see the thoughts that led to those actions. And from what little Sirius had managed to glean from Harry over the course of the holidays, it was clear to him that Harry's night time shows were seen from a seat in the front row.   
  
Harry never said what happened in his dreams, the horrors that were Voldemort's doing. The only information he would give was victims and locations. But however brave a front Harry put on during the day, his dreams were riddled with powerless whimpers. It was during these times that Sirius felt incomparable anger towards both himself and Peter Pettigrew. It was during these moments that Harry, trembling with pain or fear or both, needed comfort. Every time, without fail, Sirius offered whatever solace he could.   
  
According to Remus, there was precious little he could do to help Harry with the Order. Aside from the obvious problem that everything he did was based on pure speculation, there was the added disturbing concept of Voldemort's tenacity. He had found a foot-hold in Harry's mind, and it didn't look like he was planning on letting go any time soon.   
  
Despite the futility and sheer frustration of the situation, Harry appreciated everything Remus tried, and Sirius thought, or maybe hoped, that there had been a small improvement. Certainly, the dreams came less often than they had two weeks ago, but Sirius was unsure if this was because Remus' attempts had hit the mark or if Voldemort was simply tiring of his new-found power over the lives of wizards and muggles alike.   
  
No one aside from Harry had any idea how well Remus was helping but, judging by the anticipation Harry displayed before each session, Sirius was able to surmise that at least *some* good was coming of it.   
  
Sirius wasn't entirely sure of what exactly it was that Remus did in their hour-long sessions but he was sure that, if it involved Moony, it was complex and hideously incomprehensible. Harry seemed happy enough with it, though, and that was all that mattered to Sirius.   
  
Watching him now, Sirius found it hard to believe that Harry was only fifteen. He had seen and done things no child should have to; his eyes held, at times, the universal wisdom that Sirius usually associated with Dumbledore. And he had survived it all, holding out to the very end. How any one could do that, was beyond him completely.   
  
There was a soft sigh from the bed and Harry shifted minutely in his sleep, his eyes flickering rapidly. Sirius' heart contracted with despair. *Please, let it be a normal dream, please.*   
  
That night, his prayers went unanswered. * * *   
  
The night was black, serene, silent, sharp. Hanging low in the sky, the pale moon gave out a feeble watery light, splashing only the highest of the tree-tops with a silver halo. From somewhere in the hushed scene, an unknown bird called harshly, abruptly, a high throaty sound like fingers pulled down a blackboard. Long, suspense-filled minutes passed, occupied only by the haunting sound of the wind sobbing quietly through the leaves.   
  
Murky clouds sailed over the starless sky, pulled by invisible threads to come to a rest obscuring the moon from sight. The entire scene was thrown into an even darker black, only rivalled by the gloom of eternal sleep. The wind ceased its relentless crying and wailing into the night and the whispering of the leaves died. The clouds were pulled back and the moon was once again allowed to shine its weak light on the scene below. Somewhere, in the vast overgrown, tangled forest, a second bird answered the call of the first in the same inhuman shriek, a twig snapped, something prowled in the undergrowth.   
  
The moon sailed behind another billowing cloud, and when it reappeared it cast its light on something that had not been there before.   
  
The new apparition was low on the ground, and even from the moon's light, it was easy to tell that it was compiled mostly of stone. Broken stone. Bricks and columns, arches and turret-tops littered the ground in an ugly pretence of what the vast structure must once have been like. Amongst the wreckage, the occasional gleam of glass reflected in the moonlight could be seen. Pieces of rotting wood and rusting metal lay dotted around, grotesque lumps of material decayed over the years.   
  
Moss and lichen grew in abundance over the deep stone foundations of what must have once been a great castle. Weeds sprung up all over the wreckage, mocking in their tenacity, staying erect where the castle could not. Chair legs and table tops lay strewn in a huge pile at the West of the wreckage. Here and there, large scorch marks marred the wood and stone, the only visible sign of how the castle had fallen.   
  
And in the middle of the ruins, amongst the sprawling weeds and the crumbling stone, lying atop the rotting tables and the rusting torch brackets, rested a shield bearing a coat of arms.   
  
The shield was old and weathered, a large crack running down the right side and ending at the bottom where a huge chunk had fallen off. The colours, once bright and vibrant, were now faded, evidence of the neglect of centuries. The engravings were almost worn flat by the ruthless weather and all that could be recognised was the large elaborate 'H' carved into the centre of the shield and the single line of Latin at the bottom. Half of the line was missing, torn off and crumbled at the base, but a few letters were still legible:   
  
' raco dorm ens numqu-'  
  
tbc.  
  
  
  
A/N: There you go! Hope you like it. Chapters 17 and 18 are already in the works and at least one should be up within the week.  
  
Thanks go to: Irish Rose Coventina Hyper Princess Ashie Nuts autumngurl 102 Deathscythe Custom Lome_Roquen Storyspindler Lakergurl 13 Bob (Thank you for putting me on your favourites! You made my day!) Nicky 


	17. The Duelling Club

A/N Well, it's later than expected but at least it's here relatively early. I'd like to point out that not all of my chapters will be as reflective as the last, as you'll hopefully see from this chapter. The next one however does have a lot of that kind of writing. It's hard to slog through but it's necessary to further the plot. Just sit tight and look forward to the VERY important and exciting Quidditch match that's coming in chapter 19! Enjoy..!  
  
Chapter 17  
  
Only the disbelief registered through the haze of shock that now cloaked Harry's mind. *Hogwarts.this is Hogwarts*  
  
And the dream faded.  
  
* * *  
  
Even hours later, surrounded by the cheery lights of the Great Hall and waiting with his friends for the return of the students after the New Year, Harry still couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled firmly upon his mind the second he had realised what the ruin had been.  
  
It wasn't the fact that Hogwarts had been ruined that troubled him, although that thought was more than disturbing in its own right. It was how real the dream had seemed. All of his Voldemort-induced dreams thus far had appeared surreal; the colours had been too bright or too drab, the scale too large. The simplicity of the image he had been confronted with in the dream frightened him, for if it hadn't been stimulated by Voldemort, the dream must have been real. There was no way he could have dreamt something of that clarity without there being a particularly nasty twist.  
  
So the only question that remained was the most important and it was the one that had kept him up for the remainder of the night, long after Sirius had succumbed to sleep, long past the first signs of dawn had infiltrated the inky blackness of the night sky. It was the one that, even now, caused him to shudder with foreboding terror.  
  
If the dream had been real, there were only two possibilities and they both pressed the same question.  
  
Had the dream been of Hogwarts' past..or of its future?  
  
* * *  
  
Harry glanced apprehensively at the stage and then back at Ron. "Remind me again," he hissed to his red-haired friend who was looking around, equally terrified. "Why am I here?"  
  
Ron stole a surreptitious glance at the stage before turning to Harry, mouth open and ready to say something, when Hermione turned around in a whirlwind of bushy brown hair with a decidedly disagreeable expression.  
  
"Because it'll help you!" she whispered furiously at Ron. "Especially *you!*, she added, turning her glare on Harry who shrank back with fear at the unexpected onset.  
  
With that, she turned back to the lecture they were receiving from Sirius and 'Mad Eye' Moody. *They* involved the entirety of the Gryffindor fourth, fifth and sixth years who were, not surprisingly, glaring daggers at the Slytherin fourth, fifth and sixth years currently glowering at them from across the room.  
  
The aforementioned lecture involved an awful lot of wand waving as far as Harry could see and not a lot else. He was severely reminded of the second year duelling club and Lockhart's attempt at a block with a wand.  
  
Still, it was fun to watch the emotions on faces change from excitement or perhaps fear, to utter terror whenever Sirius' roving wand stopped and pointed at an unsuspecting body. The morning when Sirius had been announced as assistant in the Duelling Club and substitute teacher for Hagrid's now frequent absences, still remained firmly imprinted in Harry's mind. A smirk found its way onto his face as he remembered the expressions of his classmates. Neville's in particular had been predominantly amusing.  
  
The smile on his face, however, was promptly wiped off as Sirius' wand came to an abrupt halt when aimed at his head. Harry frantically tried to recall what the two teachers had just been saying, wishing heartily that he had been listening. His mind came up with something vague involving a demonstration of some sort. He came to the conclusion that Moody wanted to test him; Sirius just wanted to attack him for the hell of it. Perfect! Just his luck. This had to be some sort of joke.  
  
However, Moody's wand that was now directed at his head too, supplied another story. Harry cursed abruptly and dived to the floor as a sizzling spell shot right through the place where his head had been a millisecond before. Suddenly, Ron burst into laughter above him. *Tickling charm* his mind supplied him.  
  
Harry looked up from his position crouching on the floor in time to see Moody fire another spell at him. He dodged as best he could, crouched as he was on the floor, but the spell caught the edge of his robes as it zipped past, singeing them in the process. The fiery orange jet of light crashed into the floor, leaving a smoking trail in its wake. Harry could hear the gasps of the crowd. He cursed again, and leapt into the sea of legs surrounding him.  
  
There was a brief moment of confusion amongst the crowd as they simultaneously tried to locate Harry and get out of his way. Harry leapt up again a few metres away and looked around like a startled deer.  
  
Sirius had just spotted him and was pushing his way through the throng of students. Moody's magical eye could apparently see through human flesh as well as just about anything, as he was already advancing steadily, his wooden leg clunking ominously.  
  
The excited whispering of the students infuriated Harry and he dearly wished he could strangle a couple of them, especially the Slytherins who were at the other end of the room pointing and laughing at his ungainly tactics. Malfoy wore a smirk that just begged for Harry to chop him into tiny little pieces. Right now, Harry was more than happy to oblige.  
  
His attention was distracted from Malfoy momentarily as another spell began winging its way from Sirius' wand towards him.  
  
Harry glared at Sirius. *Why is it always me?*  
  
The spell glanced off the wall beside him and Harry did a mini victory dance, hypothetically speaking of course. He threw an impish grin at Sirius who scowled back. Out of his peripheral vision, Harry saw Moody line up for another shot and he instinctively swivelled to face it.  
  
As the spell began to emerge, Harry was suddenly certain he knew what it was. How he knew, he couldn't have said.  
  
And as it began its track towards him, Harry became unexpectedly aware of an imminent threat from somewhere else. His body jolted and turned away from Moody's oncoming spell. The whispering around him increased exponentially as the students stared in shock as Harry completely ignored Moody's spell.  
  
There was a sudden strident shriek and the atmosphere of the room thickened tangibly. A huge mass of black energy abruptly burst into life above the Slytherins' heads and pulsed briefly before shooting straight for Harry.  
  
Harry was ready and waiting for it. He shifted his body weight onto the balls of his feet ready to dodge if he needed to, when a tingling sensation started in his fingertips, gradually spreading outwards until his entire body was brimming with magic.  
  
Time slowed.  
  
He regarded the spell shooting towards him, still aware of the first that had still not yet reached its target and was now dangerously close. He had to avoid both spells; if Moody's incapacitated him, the second would kill him.  
  
Harry suddenly felt very sleepy and something slid swiftly across his mind. When his head cleared, he opened his eyes and looked around. He got the distinct impression that, whatever it was looking out of his eyes, it wasn't him.  
  
* * *  
  
Sirius gave a brief frown as the atmosphere in the room shifted minutely from the tension caused by a good duel to the thick dark danger that preceded a deadly curse. He glanced incredulously at Moody. Sure, Harry was pissing him off too, but that was no reason to warrant *this!*  
  
A closer look at Moody's countenance, however, and he knew it wasn't the ex- auror's spell. There was a high shriek that echoed loudly around the Hall. Everyone in the room shuddered at the sound. Except, Sirius noticed, Harry, who had just whipped around to face the Slytherins, intent on the area above their heads.  
  
Sirius' eyes widened as a spell, black as the dead of night, materialised in the air and shot straight for his godson.  
  
He groaned inwardly. *Not again!*  
  
Sirius watched in what seemed to be slow motion as Harry stood his ground, unflinching, as the spell travelled at him. Sirius forgot to breathe as his godson suddenly wavered and his eyes shut.  
  
*No!*  
  
Abruptly, Harry's body snapped upright and his eyes watched the spell from beneath their lids. His entire demeanour was somehow changed.  
  
But Sirius wasn't thinking about that right now. His mind was still on the bit where Harry had opened his eyes.  
  
*Gold?*  
  
* * *  
  
Harry rolled over from where he had been sprawled on the floor. He sat up and looked around. And blinked. *What the.?*  
  
Harry knew he wasn't always particularly observant but he thought he would have noticed before if Neville had been swinging from the ceiling. More to the point, he was pretty sure he would have noticed the rather large hole in the opposite wall.  
  
He frowned heavily; he didn't like the feel of this. It was the sort of feeling that generally preceded the discovery of some great mystery in his earlier adventures. Harry blinked dust from his eyes and wiped his glasses on the front of his robes, glancing around for Sirius.  
  
He located his godfather several metres away, extricating himself from a turned table-top. He opened his mouth to ask one of the multitude of questions already formed in his mind but was cut off as a sharp shot of pain raced up his spine. He let out a hoarse shriek and collapsed to the floor in a limp pile. He shut his eyes tightly, willing the burning pain to disappear. Gradually, slowly but surely, it lessened enough to be bearable, joining the continuous throbbing of his scar in the background.  
  
Letting out a deep sigh, he resigned himself to his fate and cracked first one, then the other eye open.  
  
He almost died of shock when he was presented with a concerned face right in front of him.  
  
Sirius' eyes widened in shock as Harry shrank back but a second later, he gripped Harry tightly and studied him intently. Finally, he broke into a smile and pulled the teenager up into a fierce hug. "Green," he whispered nonsensically. "You're back."  
  
Harry's eyebrows disappeared up into his hair as Sirius continued to murmur to him. Looking around, he saw that almost every person in the room was regarding him with a mixture of fear and awe.except for Neville whose features expressed sheer terror, but that didn't count, seeing as he was still hanging from the ceiling.  
  
He frowned. Something had happened, something *big* that he'd done. Big enough to blast a hole in the wall, overturn several tables and propel Neville to the ceiling. And if the clock hanging crooked from the wall above him was still to be trusted, it had all happened in a matter of minutes, if that.  
  
He swallowed and poked Sirius. Sirius' shaggy head lifted, blinking at him in surprise. "What happened?" he asked softly. There was a collective sharp intake of breath as Harry's words hung in the silence. Sirius looked worried.  
  
"You don't remember?"  
  
Harry shook his head slowly, wondering why everyone was casting each other shifty looks. Sirius took a deep breath.  
  
"You.your eyes," he began, then faltered before picking up the thread and starting again. "It shot straight at you and you.your eyes they.".Words failed again. Silence reigned until Moody clunked his way towards the pair and finished what Sirius had started to say.  
  
"Your eyes, son. They turned gold."  
  
Harry stared, and stared, then finally blinked. Gold? This had to be some sort of a joke. Surely.  
  
He looked up at Moody, silently urging him to continue. He was relatively sure that a simple change in eyes colour would not have caused Sirius to hide under a table or Neville to leap to a candelabrum in fear.  
  
Moody's magical eye twitched and swept over Harry and around the room, pausing briefly on Neville before widening, then performing a quick charm to return the boy safely to earth. He turned back to Harry.  
  
"I don't know," he admitted quietly.  
  
At this point, several of the students snapped out of their trances and started talking excitedly amongst themselves. Harry dearly wished they would shut up; he still didn't know anything useful. Above the babble, he distinctly heard Tony's voice. "Bloody cool! D'ya think he'd do it again if I asked?"  
  
Sirius exploded. "HE WILL DO NOTHING OF THE SORT!" he bellowed, and the room abruptly hushed. He forced himself to calm before continuing. "Do you have any idea how dangerous what has just happened was? Any one of you in this room, *including Harry and myself* could have been killed."  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught a glimpse of Malfoy smirking. That little ferret! What was he gloating about now?  
  
"I'd like to know exactly what it was I did," he gently reminded. All eyes in the room swivelled to him before moving onto Moody who sighed and started speaking again.  
  
"I've only ever seen anything like it once before. That was many years ago and in entirely different circumstances," he paused uncertainly, before plunging ahead.  
  
A friend of mine summoned a demon from beyond our realm which later killed her. I don't know exactly what it was you did but you summoned something, or else it came to you unbidden. It wasn't a Dark creature, of that, at least, I am sure. But whatever it was, it was large and dangerous. And destructive." His eye travelled swiftly around the room, noting rumpled clothes, singed hair, not to mention the tables and the hole.  
  
Harry stared uncomprehendingly at Moody. This wasn't happening, it couldn't be true.  
  
But it was and it was only another worry to add to his already over-flowing list.  
  
And suddenly, with a sick feeling, he realised what it was Malfoy had been grinning inanely for.  
  
There was now the very high likelihood of expulsion.  
  
  
  
Tbc.  
  
A/N Well, there it is. Sorry for the slight delay. Chapter 18 should be up soon.  
  
Thanks go to:  
  
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Acy 


	18. Midnight mysteries

A/N. As promised, chapter 19 is already on its way but until it arrives you'll have to make do with chapter 18. Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 18  
  
The night outside was pitch black, thick, heavy clouds obscuring the watery moon and flickering stars from sight. Hogwarts slept peacefully under the inky blackness, her silence interrupted only sporadically by the night-time wanderings of Mrs Norris and the ghosts.  
  
Inside the castle's towering walls, along the great stone corridors, torches of all colours set at intervals down the wall had long since guttered out or else shone only dimly. Portraits snoozed in their frames where they lay, various appendages sometimes dangling into next-door's wintry landscape. Down in the dungeons, the bowels of the castle, rats scurried down the dank passageways, hurrying home to their nest while the portrait of Salazar Slytherin frowned haughtily at them. High above in one of the many turret-topped towers, owls rustled their feathers in the Owlery, impatient for the night's hunting to begin.  
  
It was a calm night, of soft shadows and soothing sounds. All students were abed, exhausted after the trials of the day. All, of course, except one.  
  
The light filtering through under the door was faint but it was bright enough to cast shadows and colour alike onto the worn floor beneath it. Every now and then, the light would flicker as the flame that shed it sputtered in a draft.  
  
Harry sat alone in a rickety wooden chair at the back of the Library, hunched over one of the many tables and surrounded by countless musty volumes. The invisibility cloak lay pooled on the table, close at hand should someone decide to enter the Library.  
  
Scanning down the archaic parchment, Harry's eyes paused at a promising- looking paragraph:  
  
_Demon summonings are rare, and those who survive them even more so. There are few records of a full and successful summoning and many of those are ambiguous in their viability. However, they do give researchers a viewpoint on which to base their studies. The extract below describes such a summoning as seen from an eyewitness' point of view.  
  
"Abruptly, all around us, a low hum interrupted the previous heavy silence. I looked on with horror, and no small amount of fear, as my companion raised her arms to the high-vaulted ceiling and began to sway listlessly. The reverberating sound grew yet louder, and I was forced, along with the three other occupants of the room, to cover my ears with my hands.  
  
The witch ceased her swaying, now cupping her palms in the air above her, and started to speak in a language I have yet to hear again. The tension of the room shifted; the air seemed heavier and somehow stifled, the light was smothered. The ever-present hum had, by this point, risen to such a pitch that it pierced my eardrums despite the hands clasped frantically over them.  
  
The air between the hands now darkened and writhed sinuously. Her palms fell apart slowly, and the darkness grew with her, unfurling until it encompassed her entire body and she was held, cocooned at the very centre of a veritable mass of seething black energy.  
  
It was only when she turned towards me and gazed straight through me, eyes wild and black from edge to edge, that I began to suspect that something had gone wrong.  
  
The demon she had summoned had yet to assume a solid shape around her body and its incessant wailings shattered the glass of the high windows, showering the room with fragments of broken glass. The energy around the witch's body thrashed excitedly, lashing out across the room until it came into contact with two of the room's other occupants. The demon seized them and drew them, flailing and screaming hysterically, into its energy mass.  
  
They died instantly, and I believe that the demon fed off the energy their deaths provided it.  
  
The witch began to move towards me, the swaying fingers of the demon surrounding her, grasping forwards blindly. I stumbled backwards, overcome with fear and prayed to whatever deities listening that my death would be a quick one.  
  
I don't know what it was that saved me. I only remember a brilliant flash of blazing light filling the room as a soothing song swept across my mind. When I opened my eyes again, the witch was gone, the demon with her."_  
  
Harry frowned, glaring at the text. He couldn't deny that that sounded like what had happened at the Duelling Club, but there were differences. For starters, there had been no deadly spell to provoke the witch into summoning the demon. Frowning, he thought back to when Ron and Hermione, accompanied by about half of the Gryffindors, had informed him of the details.  
  
//"I don't understand. What did I do?"  
  
"."  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Well.first your eyes changed colour. All over, not just the irises-"  
  
"Edge to edge!"  
  
"Oy, shut up Dean. I'M telling the story. Anyway, this massive.*thing* sprung up around you, blocking the spell but it didn't disappear -"  
  
"What did it look like?"  
  
"Golden, sort of orangey-red. Like fire. It surrounded you completely, then."  
  
"Then what?"  
  
"It moved-"  
  
"You moved too, only you just walked a bit. It sort of.thrashed around a bit."  
  
"It swept me to the ceiling!"  
  
"And then?"  
  
"It vanished-"  
  
"And you collapsed." //  
  
Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily as he remembered the talk he had had with Dumbledore.  
  
Harry had sat across the desk from Dumbledore, his head down and peering intently at the rug beside his feet. Eventually, after several tense minutes, Dumbledore had sighed heavily and started to speak.  
  
The conversation that had followed had been strained and, looking back now, Harry winced at what had been said. The Headmaster had made it clear that it could not happen again and Harry had felt his heart falter, waiting for the inevitable moment when Dumbledore would ask for his wand, break it in two and send him on his way.  
  
Dumbledore had gone on, though, before Harry could make any reply other than a cursory nod to show he understood. "You will understand, I hope, that I cannot in good conscience allow it to happen again." Harry nodded and finally looked up into the Headmaster's eyes. They looked weary but still shone kindly and that infernal twinkle sparkled from the depths and Harry began to feel hope. "Which is why I would ask you not to return to the Duelling Club. Alastor will tutor you personally." He smiled warmly and Harry's heart gave a huge leap.  
  
"You're not expelling me?" he asked with no small amount of surprise. Dumbledore had looked amused.  
  
"Why should I, my dear boy? There is no evidence to confirm that you know what you were doing. Certainly, I'm not even sure if it *was* you that did it."  
  
And after reminding Harry to at least try to stay out of trouble and a gentle enquiry concerning his general health, Dumbledore had sent him on up to bed.  
  
Upon arriving at Gryffindor Tower, he had had different ideas and fifteen minutes later found him firmly ensconced in the Restricted Section. He had been given another opportunity and he wasn't going to waste it.  
  
Harry growled in annoyance and slammed the book shut before shoving all of the mildewed volumes back into their respective places on the shelves. Returning to the table, he picked up the cloak and draped it over his shoulders, careful to avoid knocking over the lantern. Hurriedly, he picked up the lantern and swiftly blew out the candle before ghosting silently out of the Library.  
  
On his way back up to Gryffindor Tower, Harry thought about what he'd learnt that night. It seemed more or less accurate, but Moody had said that that thing, that.whatever-it-had-been, hadn't been evil. So what was the antithesis of a demon? An angel? But he'd seen them on muggle cards at Christmas. They were humanoid in shape, depending on the skill of the artist and always had wings. Dudley's had looked like a pig in a dress. He smiled briefly. *If pigs could fly.*  
  
Could it be something to do with the Order? Some kind of weird defence mechanism? But that was out of bounds too. It wasn't Voldemort who had cast the triggering spell; if that snake had been anywhere as near as he would have had to have been to cast the spell, Harry would have been rolling on the floor in agony. It relieved him to know that Voldemort hadn't been there, but also disturbed him to some degree. The fact that it wasn't Voldemort meant that there was someone in Hogwarts who wanted him at least severely injured, if not dead. In retro respect, it was clear to Harry that Dumbledore had been on the same thought train he was on now.  
  
He grimaced. Why did everyone think he couldn't take care of himself? He was perfectly capable, as he had demonstrated on countless occasions. Why did people think he was going to break at the slightest thing?  
  
//*"Kill the spare"  
  
"Avada Kedavra"  
  
"Stand aside you silly girl"*//  
  
Harry shuddered and shoved those memories to the back of his mind. He didn't need to think about them right now. It hadn't been his fault.it hadn't.  
  
Harry jumped as the large Grandfather clock at the end of the passage signalled the time as one in the morning. Saturday, and he had a quidditch match later today. Against Ravenclaw. He sighed. Perfect! Just what he needed! He didn't know if he was ready to face Cho Chang yet. He supposed today would tell.  
  
Harry came to a stop and leant on the wall beside a window, peering out to see if the stars were up. It was a dark night; heavy clouds sailed across the sky, obscuring the pinpricks of light from the eye. The lake surrounding the castle gleamed like uncut obsidian, absorbing what little light there was into its murky black depths. A soft rustling overhead indicated the departure of the owls for their night's hunting. Harry watched the dark shadows flitting towards the Forbidden Forest.  
  
All of a sudden, the forest shifted, flaring outwards. Harry stumbled back from the window, eyes large and breathing harsh. He shut his eyes, gripping his wand tightly in suddenly clammy hands. Slowly, he cracked his eyes open. And gasped in disbelief.  
  
The forest hadn't moved at all but stayed exactly where it had always been. That, at least, was clear. Too clear in fact. Light now flooded his vision, throwing the scene into unnatural daylight, but the moon and stars remained behind the billowing clouds. The night took on a startling clarity of colour and detail. He could see into the Forbidden Forest, each branch whipping through the air in a dizzying motion, each individual leaf swaying against its neighbour. He could see the creatures of the forest prowling in the undergrowth; the gleam of sharp teeth, the flash of a pale hide, the trails of a tracked animal.  
  
The vision was gone almost as suddenly as it had arrived and Harry was left blinking in the dark with a bereft feeling and utterly blind, now that the darkness permeated his senses once more.  
  
Harry waited patiently until he could see clearly again, then warily peered out of the window once more. The forest remained in its proper place and Harry could see no more than the vague outlines of the trees at the forefront of the forest.  
  
He shook his head distractedly and sighed. It was late and he was beginning to see things. Not a good sign for someone who had to spend the next day searching for a ball the size of a walnut. He should get some sleep.  
  
Casting one last suspicious look out of the window, he turned and, after a failed attempt at traversing a staircase that decided to move when he was halfway up, hurried back up to Gryffindor Tower and bed.  
  
Hogwarts slept on, unaware of what had just transpired within her walls. Outside, in the cold dark night, shadows moved restlessly in the forest. Neither the moon nor the stars appeared that night; the clouds refused to budge despite the prevailing winds that had developed by early morning. Owls that had left only hours before under a calm night sky, struggled to return in the early dawn through the buffeting winds.  
  
And in Gryffindor Tower, the window of the fifth-year boys' dormitory, slammed open with a resounding crash and the wind rushed in, moaning mournfully. Seamus leapt up off his bed and ran to shut the window firmly.  
  
Harry sighed deeply and watched the dry leaves that the wind had carried inside eddy around in circles before dropping to the floor.  
  
These were *not* the ideal conditions for a quidditch match.  
  
Tbc.  
  
A/N Well there you are. The next chapter involves a very exciting and a VERY important quidditch match, plot-wise of course. Until then, don't forget to review!  
  
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	19. Gryffindor v Ravenclaw

A/N Sorry this took so long, I really didn't like the quidditch match but after sitting on it for weeks and not coming up with anything better, I decided to just let it past. Hopefully the next one will be better *nudge nudge wink wink* Well, here's the quidditch match. Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 19  
  
Harry had suspected that it wouldn't be a good day today when he had woken that morning to the sound of a window slamming open and a wailing banshee racing around the room.  
  
His thoughts had only been confirmed when he walked into the Great Hall. The high ceiling of the room displayed an unenthusiastic grey sky overhead. If he looked closer, he could see the tiny black specks that were the few valiant post owls that had made it through the destructive winds. And although it wasn't raining, he knew it was going to. It was just one of *those* days.  
  
He grimaced and made his way to the Gryffindor table, careful to sit as far away as possible from Fred and George who had been whispering together excitedly at dinner last night. Ron beamed at him around a mouthful of toast as he sat down. Chewing hurriedly, he finished his breakfast and turned to Harry with a bright smile.  
  
"I wouldn't touch the eggs. They're hexed."  
  
Harry nodded and loaded three slices of bacon onto his plate. He listened only half-heartedly as Ron rambled on about something-o-other, as he found himself watching Cho Chang. The Ravenclaw Seeker was sitting quietly at her table surrounded by friends who were good-naturedly trying to force food down her throat. But Cho wasn't listening and, like him, she had found her gaze drawn to her opponent Seeker.  
  
Cho watched him for a brief moment before she blinked hurriedly, eyes suddenly downcast and turned away from him. Nope, today definitely wasn't going to be a good day. Harry sighed as he chewed miserably on his bacon.  
  
It didn't help when, thirty seconds later, said bacon turned him a lurid shade of pink.  
  
* * *  
  
The winds last night had certainly managed to do a fair amount of damage, Harry thought as he stepped outside into the frosty morning air, thankfully depinkified. Several of the trees at the edge of the Forbidden Forest had fallen in the night, one only narrowly missing Hagrid's hut. Even the Whomping Willow had suffered, losing three of its precious branches, now lying scattered about it, as it had thrashed the ground in anger.  
  
Harry couldn't help but grin when he spied a diminutive Professor Flitwick desperately trying to evade the still writhing limbs of the tree while, at the same time, perform a spell that would return them to the main body. Currently, the tree definitely had the upper hand.  
  
Turning to the Quidditch Pitch, he frowned as he saw the state of the stands. Several of them had lost various railings and one had been destroyed completely by a falling tree. The three golden hoops at either end of the Pitch were leaning at dangerous angles, hap-hazardly strewn in different directions so that the Keeper had no hope in hell of defending all three at once. Several of the Professors, including Madame Hooch were darting around the pitch correcting fallen posts or ripped flags. Harry smiled at the sight of a scowling Ignia wrestling a particularly stubborn beam back into place. He glanced at his watch. The game wouldn't start for two hours yet.  
  
Plenty of time to get back at the twins for the pink incident.  
  
* * *  
  
"And here we are at the beginning of what is sure to be another exciting match. It's wet, it's windy, it's wintry but who cares? It's quidditch! It's Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw!"  
  
Harry winced as the booming voice of Lee Jordan sounded throughout the grounds. His voice had been magnified by more than the usual amount to account for the screaming winds and the result was nothing short of deafening.  
  
He had to admit that the professors had done an excellent job with restoring the pitch to its former glory, even if a couple of the poles were still a little wonky. The house banners waved gaily in the ferocious onslaught and every so often a random hat or scarf would detach itself from its owner and float upwards.  
  
The noise of the crowd, which Harry was relatively sure was fairly large, was all but drowned out by the raging winds. As it was, he had a difficult time hearing Madame Hooch as she addressed the players above her.  
  
He did, however, hear the whistle perfectly. Harry was up like a shot, soaring high above the spectators' stands until he was little more than a dark speck to his team-mates. Harry was so far up that he couldn't hear what was being said by Lee and thus he had no idea of how the game was progressing.  
  
Peering downwards, through the fine mist of rain that had finally started to fall, Harry could just about determine the ant-like movements of the players as they raced towards the Ravenclaw end of the pitch. In no time at all, Alicia had put the quaffle through the centre hoop and Gryffindor stepped into the lead. The sound of the bell that signified a successful goal sounded and carried up to Harry's ears as he rose a little higher. The Ravenclaws responded with a heightening of their teamwork and before long Tony was inundated with the quaffle at the Gryffindor end of the pitch.  
  
The game continued at a furious pace below him and Harry hovered in the air, searching in vain for the snitch. The rain increased steadily over the next ten minutes and Harry had still had no sighting of the snitch and nor, he belatedly realised, of Cho. Harry dropped a little lower, still scanning the immediate area and keeping a wary eye out for the bludgers which delighted in sneaking up on him unawares, especially in this sort of weather.  
  
As far as he could tell, from Lee's muffled shouts and the muted roars of the crowd in the direction of what he thought (or rather hoped) was the Gryffindor end, his team was currently in the lead but not by much. The outcome of the game depended entirely on the capture of the snitch.  
  
Right now, Harry thought it highly improbable that that would occur in the near future, considering he could see no more than a few feet in front of him. And he couldn't see Cho anywhere, although that was hardly surprising. Harry was sodden through, and his robes were plastered to his body like a wet-suit. He felt (and no doubt looked) like a drowned rat.  
  
Harry decided to give up his bird's eye view of the game and descended slowly by twenty odd feet. Although there was a higher danger of colliding with players or balls at this height, the snitch would at least be visible. A roar went up from the crowd and this time, Harry was close enough to hear the score.  
  
"And Gryffindor pulls ahead 50-30. Twenty minutes into the game and neither side is planning on losing today's match. Still no sign of the snitch as Gryffindor Seeker Harry Potter comes down in order to search more easily. Chang remains at the Gryffindor hoops and neither player seems to have a clue as to where that ball might be. That rain must be a pain right now."  
  
Harry tuned out the rest of Lee's commentary as he focused on peering around for the snitch. The rain had surfaced with a vengeance now and that, combined with the low level of light, was making it incredibly hard to see *anything*, let alone a tiny flying ball. To his right and what he judged to be a good ten feet away, Harry could see the Teacher's Box where each professor sat happily sheltered by various spells. He frowned darkly and muttered profanities under his breath.  
  
The wind picked up in intensity and Harry's robes flapped around his head obstructing his vision. After a brief moment of panic, he managed to right them and hastily took off into the wind so his robes billowed behind him rather than in front. Unfortunately, that led him straight into the pelting rain- fat, hard bullets of the stuff- but that couldn't be helped. Even more unfortunately, it led him straight towards the Gryffindor hoops and, indirectly, Cho.  
  
Harry's broom shuddered to a halt a few feet away from Cho's. "All right?" he asked nervously.  
  
Cho turned to him with a frown. "What?" she screamed. "I can't hear you!"  
  
"I said 'All right?'" he yelled back.  
  
Cho looked at him as if he were mad. "What? In *this* weather?" she bellowed back incredulously.  
  
Harry felt like a fool. *Stupid question you wanker!* Cho turned to him and gave him a small smile. Harry's heart skipped a beat and then thudded with relief. His brief moment of relief was interrupted rudely and suddenly in the form of a large angry ball. The bludger appeared from nowhere, materialising from out of the rain and missing him by mere millimetres. Harry executed a hurried barrel roll in mid-air to avoid it connecting with his head as it whizzed back again. Not far away, he heard the unmistakeable sound of another coming his way. Time to beat a hasty retreat.  
  
Harry zoomed away from the hoops back into the middle of the pitch, ploughing straight through the Ravenclaw chasers on his way and accidentally causing them to drop the ball. *Not that I'm going to complain*, he thought as the quaffle was snatched up by Katie. The bludgers attached themselves to the Chasers and Harry seized the opportunity and sped in the opposite direction.  
  
Glancing down at the Gryffindor stands, Harry's breath caught in his throat as he spied a shimmer of gold above the first years' heads. He scanned the area briefly to see if Cho had spotted the snitch as well, but for all he knew she could be three feet away and he wouldn't know it. Harry pulled his broom around sharply and went into a spectacular dive that was headed straight for the stands, and consequently (although his brain hadn't registered it yet) to a rather nasty collision with said stands.  
  
He could hear the sound of Lee's voice as he plunged further downwards towards the first year's who were clambering away from the golden ball as if it were a bomb.  
  
"And Potter's making a headlong dash for the stands! Is this a Wronski Feint? If so, it's a rather stupid one-but no.it must be the snitch! Chang's seen it too-"  
  
*What?* Harry's head whipped upwards at the mention of Cho's name and he saw her speeding towards the same spot as him from below. Harry urged his broom on faster but he instinctively knew that Cho would be doing the same.  
  
What followed next happened in a confusing flurry of movement that had professors and students alike dredging the memories up for years after it had occurred.  
  
As Cho and Harry raced forwards, it became clear that, unless one of them pulled away, they would crash. Clearly, neither of them was going to let the match go that easily and so the crowd readied themselves for a spectacular collision.  
  
Only, to the great disappointment of the crowd and undoubtedly the intense relief of the two Seekers involved, that collision never occurred.  
  
At the last second, Cho dropped downwards to avoid Harry. Unfortunately, as Cho moved, Harry leant forwards and his broom also descended, clipping hers as it swung to avoid the impact. Cho's Nimbus barrelled over suddenly and her head narrowly missed Harry's foot. As she began to right herself, a particularly violent gust of wind caught them both and Harry slipped sideways, losing his grip and he ended up hanging by one arm onto his shuddering broom, the other arm entangled in his flapping robes. The wind pushed Cho back into her upside-down position and she clung by all fours, head drooping.  
  
The scene froze for perhaps a second as each Seeker viewed the other's precarious position and hastily whispered his or her prayer for survival. Then, as if in a dream, the Golden Snitch floated to a halt in between them, wings weighed down by the rain and exhausted by such a long game.  
  
Cho's eyes crossed as she tried to focus on the ball right in front of her nose. Harry's hand twitched. The crowd watched in riveted silence.  
  
Abruptly, each Seeker made a grab for the ball, which was not a good idea on either of their parts. Cho's lunge pushed her broom off balance and pitched her forwards, tumbling earthwards with a shriek, broom still several feet above her. Harry, whose left hand had been occupied in disentangling itself from his robes, made a snatch for it with his right which had been connected with the broom. Belatedly, he realised his mistake and hurriedly reached for the handle again. He caught it but only just and his wild swing carried him into the side of the Stands with a dull thump. The banner flared outwards and wrapped around him as he slowly tumbled towards the ground, rolling down the side of the Stands.  
  
Tony, being the nearest player aside from Harry (who was currently occupied with rolling safely to the ground) leapt into a magnificent dive and succeeded in catching Cho inches from the ground.  
  
The crowd held its breath. Harry tumbled out of the banner and onto the ground, staggering drunkenly. Harry stared at his hands after he had sorted his robes and then, very slowly, as if inebriated, raised his right hand high above his head.  
  
The snitch fluttered feebly in his grasp.  
  
The crowd burst into a great roar of approval as Lee announced excitedly down the loudspeaker that that *had* to have been the best catch ever. The noise only increased in decibel level as Tony did something very unexpected.  
  
He leant forwards and kissed Cho full on the lips.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry sat staring moodily out of the only window in the Gryffindor Common Room, deriving some sort of insane pleasure from watching the wind rip the trees to shreds. Gryffindor Common Room was currently in the throes of a massive party at which Tony seemed to be the guest of honour. Not that that was what was bothering Harry. He was currently sulking in the corner, when he could be enjoying the party, reflecting on the unfortunate detail that Cho was now utterly smitten with Tony.  
  
Although he had long given up hopes on her, especially after the Tournament, it was still horrendously unfair. As if he didn't already have enough on his plate.  
  
He was interrupted from his musings when one of the Weasley twins (he still couldn't tell them apart) made a beeline, albeit a slightly intoxicated one, for him. Fred (or was it George?) collapsed beside him and regarded him with a look that could be considered concern but was most likely ill- concealed apprehension due to the revenge Harry had taken for the pink incident.  
  
"Hey, Harry," he started waving a lazy, unsteady hand in the air, "why aren't choo joining in?"  
  
Harry turned to face him with an unreadable expression and eventually, after a few moments of squinting, Fred (or George) sighed and returned to the party, complete with his neon-green mohican.  
  
Harry mentally berated himself for moping over losing someone that technically hadn't been his in the first place. He glanced back out of the window, peering into the dark. He hadn't forgotten what had happened last night, but nor had he thought about it in great detail. The most logical explanation for his sudden perfect night vision seemed to be something to do with the Summoning. If it had been a Summoning.  
  
He sighed and realised that he would get nowhere tonight; his mind kept returning to Tony and *that* kiss. Harry cast a speculative glance out of the darkened window before getting up and stretching lazily.  
  
Locating Ron amongst the throng of party-goers was easier than one might have expected and he was soon on his way upstairs, having informed his friend of his intentions to go to sleep.  
  
Climbing into bed, his thoughts were not focused on Cho, but instead on the recent events. Everything had happened so quickly that he was still a little confused concerning everything that had taken place over the last few weeks. Still, things seemed to have calmed down and Harry hoped that that situation would remain so for some time to come.  
  
The annoying voice in the back of his head, however, took great pleasure in informing him that this was most likely the calm before the storm.  
  
* * *  
  
It is well-known among all circles of wizarding folk, that Azkaban is quite literally hell on a big rock in the middle of the sea. Which is in the middle of nowhere. It is also common knowledge, that said rock is 'home' to the most nefarious criminals and Death Eaters of the times. And a few hundred Dementors.  
  
Peter Pettigrew was currently the inhabitant of cell One Nine Seven Eight of the 'Bowels', as the level was referred to by the long-time residents. Aptly named for several reasons, mostly the foul stench surrounding the area, the 'Bowels' were the cells commonly assigned to known Death Eaters or other such beings the Ministry refused to recognise as human.  
  
Cell One Nine Seven Eight was a nondescript room with dripping bricks and an iron door. Just the same as all of the other cells. Cell One Nine Seven Eight, just like all others, held a convicted inmate. What was different, however, about cell One Nine Seven Eight was that the aforementioned inmate currently happened to be a rat. A rat which was in the process of squeezing under the aforesaid iron door.  
  
Upon reaching the other side of the locked iron door, the decidedly skinnier-than-it-used-to-be rat paused in the hallway and crouched low, whiskers quivering. The noises of shrieks and moans reverberated off the wet walls, causing the sounds of misery to permeate the very air. The rat shivered.  
  
By the time the next Dementor shift had swept by, cell One Nine Seven Eight was now empty and the corridor outside was in a similar state.  
  
Peter Pettigrew, known Death Eater, was no longer in Azkaban. And by the end of the night, every Death Eater within the prison's walls would be released by none other than the prison's guardians, the Dementors.  
A/N Again, sorry for the delay. Also sorry to everyone who is on my mailing list and didn't receive notification of the last update. My computer screwed itself.  
  
Thanks for all the review, I really appreciate them. And BIG hugs to all nine people who have me on their favourites lists. I feel loved.  
  
Thanks to: Buffynick6, Storyspindler, Romeo Dunn, butterflygirl, Lome_Roquen, Shadowhawk, Irish Rose, kat, Chaos' Dragon, Bob, trunksgrl182 and Suna. 


	20. Goodbye

Hi, everyone.  
  
Yeah, I hate these notes too but I thought it best to say something. I won't be continuing with this fic anymore. Why? Well, several reasons. One, obviously, is that the real Book 5 is out now and I wouldn't feel comfortable writing a story with a completely different plot where Sirius is still alive. Another is the fact that I have left it very late to update. The main reason for this was GCSEs and they're over now but the book is still out.  
  
It is a pity. I had a lot of great ideas in the works and I was really looking forward to writing the last few chapters (there was something really spectacular coming) but there would have been at least eight chapters before then and I don't think I would have had the patience to write those as well.  
  
I know I promised I would finish the fic but that was before the release date for OotP was confirmed. I'm truly sorry to anyone who was really following this and I want to thank all c200 of my reviewers.  
  
BUT, do not despair. I've had a great idea for a Book 6 and I'm already jumping with the chance to write it. The tone of the books has now changed but I want to try and do them justice and I've had a true brainwave. I suspect that quite a few ideas from this fic will migrate into that one so don't worry too much. I might, in the future (mind you, a *long* way into the future) write an entire AU series where this fic will feature but that's about bottom of my list of things to write right now.  
  
So goodbye for now. I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did whilst it lasted. Thanks to all reviewers again. Look out for Book 6 in the near future (with better writing-I'm cringing looking at the opening chapters of this one. Please don't read them!)  
  
Luv baasheep xx 


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